Villain's Convention
by Zaratan
Summary: Jack Hench needs to boost business since the Lowardian invasion, and offers a prize to the villain who tells the best first villainy story to draw in the customers. Zaratan's June story contest. Please check my forum for all the details.
1. Chapter 1

**The Villain's Convention**

Jack Hench looked out over the convention center floor, looking out over the various booths and stalls that were making him money. Throughout the aisles, villains of every shape, form, and style wandered up and down, looking for the latest gadget or toy that would serve them well in their latest quest for world domination, or at the very least their latest scheme to destroy something. They were predictable in their habits. Just phrase some device the right way without really lying, and they would line up around the block to get their hands on whatever it was. That is what made Jack Hench rich before his fortieth birthday.

Climbing down from his overhead perch, he made his way to his goal, his schedule keeper beeping as the task he assigned himself beckoned. Yes, it was always good to make money, but sometimes, you just had to do something to draw them all in here. That was the purpose of his next contest.

Usually, he just did a draw to win some death vehicle or maybe some ultra super-weapon, something cheap he had his boys throw together to draw in the rubes so that they would buy his stuff. It worked every time, the attendance numbers increasing with every quarterly show he held. With the higher numbers, more money came in. The more money, the more he could develop, and the more that he could make... all in this perfect spiral that had served him well.

And then came the Lowardian invasion. It had torn a hole in the world that many nations were still trying to fix. One would think, with all the chaos, that the super villain community would be almost joyful at the conditions, conditions just perfect for taking over a country or two. But that didn't seem to be the case.

Instead of boosting sales, the plummeted. His last quarterly convention, the first one since the invasion, had seen an attendance drop of over sixty percent. Those were figures that Jack Hench, owner and CEO of Henchco, could not abide by. So, he had come up with a plan, one that he hoped would boost sales and return things to where they should be.

Instead of the normal draw, he was going to have a contest. All the villains would come up to the stage, one by one, and tell the story of their first act of villainy. Then, those in the audience would vote on the best story of the lot, with the winner walking away with the big prize. If it worked, it would be brilliant. Villains always loved to boast, and the thought of winning something just for doing so would draw them all to the convention. Plus, maybe the stories would inspire new villains to get into the game, thereby increasing his sales further. It was a plan that was sure to succeed!

Stepping up to the stage, he drew the attention of every villain there. They all knew what he was doing, and all were eagerly awaiting their shot at wowing the masses. Smiling, he stepped up to the podium, clearing his throat before he began.

"Ladies... gentlemen... other... beings. Welcome to the Winter Villain's Convention of 2008. I am your host as always, Jack Hench. Now, I know what all you fine folks are looking forward to," Jack paused as the crowd cheered loudly, "so, without further ado, you know what is at stake."

Jack waved to the large, covered object behind him, a hidden mystery to all the guests, though he guessed Doctor Ocular, who was able to see through solid object, already knew what it was. "Behind me is the prize you would kill to discover, but dismemberment is not necessary. No folks, all you have to do is come up here and tell the tale of your first true act of villainy. Then, once all the stories have been told, you fine people will judge the best of them. That lucky villain or villainess will then win the grand prize. Couldn't be simpler, right?"

Jack smiled as he stood before the spellbound mass. He had them, and he could hear the money rolling in already. "That's right folks, just tell us your story and you could win. And the first on our docket to tell their story is... Falsetto Jones! Unfortunately, he couldn't be here in person, but we have some video of him telling his story that he said I could share with you all. Enjoy!"

--

Author's Notes – All right folks, it's time for anouther Zaratan story contest. This one is simple. The authors taking part will all send me their chapters for their selected villain or villainess, telling their own story of their first act of villainy. On July 8th, I will take all the submitted chapters and post them into this story as separate chapters. At that point, voting will begin in my forum for the best chapter of the bunch, as voted by you, the readers. Finally, one final chapter will be posted, naming the winner of the contest.

So, if you want to take part, stop by my forum, in the June Contest topic, and find a villain not selected by someone else. Get the chapter back to me by June 30th, and you can be entered as well.

And remember folks, have fun and enjoy!


	2. Falsetto Jones

Please check the ending to chapter 1, as it has been changed just slightly to allow for a change in programming. Thank you.

…with you

Disclaimer: Kim Possible and all the characters of the show are owned by the Disney Company. The original lyrics to the songs referenced in this story and the music are the property of the respective authors, artists and labels. All other characters appearing in this story can be blamed on the author (he, however, is not responsible for all of their actions at all times, being barely responsible for himself most of the time).

This is a strictly not-for-profit, just-for-fun work.

Enjoy! Please read and review.

**Villain's Convention - Chapter 2 - Falsetto Jones by Cpneb**

**A/N Forward: **

He needed her help to keep a promise….

--

He really wasn't certain why he had come. After all, he could have contacted his target somewhere else besides at _this_ little gathering. He was here, though, and he decided that he would enjoy himself, one way or another.

He'd brought her along, of course: she didn't go on his 'special' business trips, but on the regular ones, like this, she always came along.

The desk attendant had given him a hard time until he showed his Jack Hench personally-signed invitation. That, and the National Express Triple-Platinum member card, got the attendant's attention, and the two of them and their luggage were escorted to the suite that he had requested: the top floor of the hotel, with single elevator access.

He had done his homework, of course, and he had confirmed that his target would be attending this conference. He wanted to meet her, face-to-face, and see and confirm that she was 'all that' he had heard and read, and he needed to see if she was even interested or, for that matter, even 'still in the business.'

He sat silently in their his suite with her, her head in his lap, him gently stroking her hair, as they listened together to Bach's Brandenburg Concerto #3. It had been her favorite, and she especially liked the harpsichord transitional movement. "It brings you from the stately to the energetic," she whispered to him that night as they attended a live performance in Go City's Chamber Performance Hall.

He glanced up at the clock next to the mantle: 5:49 PM.

It was time.

--

He and his companion went to the hotel bar. He ordered six different drinks and, in a very short order, downed five of them. He picked up the last drink and placed a US 100 Dollar bill on the bar.

"Please, place the drinks on my tab, if you would, dear lady, and keep this for your trouble," he said to the attractive woman that had been his bartender. The patrons in the bar watched him and his companion leave, amazed at his constitution.

"Carlton!" He stopped and turned slowly, and she turned with him to look at the voice now approaching him.

"Jack," Carlton smiled and extended his hand.

Jack Hench, the President of HenchCo, smiled and shook the hand of the world's most famous thief, famous because he was never caught with the goods in hand, and famous because he was already so wealthy that he didn't need to steal in the first place. He had scored a coup, he felt, in getting Carlton to agree to come. The others were regulars, but this was the first time that Carlton had agreed to come to any event such as this.

"I trust you and your guest are comfortable?" Jack smiled and stole a glance at Carlton's companion.

"Indeed, we are, Jack: thank you for allowing us the privacy we desire," Carlton replied, and she smiled and nodded her approval, as well.

"Were you able to arrange some time for me to meet with her, privately, this evening?"

"Indeed I have, but she rejected the retainer until after your conversation was complete: then, she said, she'd decide what value to set," Jack replied and smiled. 'At least, this time, she didn't threaten to burn my rear end: she's _**so**_ much more relaxed, now that he's 'gone green,' Jack laughed inside.

"Where, and when?" he asked.

"As you requested: at the 'Evil Happy Hour,' at 6:16 PM. I'm sure you'll recognize her," Jack laughed, "and she'll be alone, as well."

"Thanks, Jack," Carlton stuck out his hand and shook Jack's, as he turned and headed for the gift shop to kill time.

Jack felt the paper placed in his hand, and he looked down. A piece of paper, with a number written on it preceded by a plus sign and the word "bill":

"Five thousand dollars," Jack grinned. "Easiest five minutes' worth of work I've ever done, and the most lucrative, to boot." He refolded the paper and placed it in his shirt pocket for the hotel accountant to add to Carlton's bill as 'consultation expenses.'

--

"What's good, Sandy?" Shego quizzed the bartender at the front of the hotel restaurant.

"Besides me?" Sandy replied with a laugh. "Not much; but, for you, ma'am, everything," the bartender grinned. "Your meals and drinks have all been covered by Mr. Jones for the duration of your stay with us," she winked at Shego, and Shego smiled back at her.

"Purely business," Shego smirked, and Sandy smiled back: she knew Shego too well from the past two nights here to know that this guy wasn't getting lucky tonight, if ever.

"Sharon, bring me two bottles: chilled properly, of course, of Dom Perignon 1998, a plate of medium minced, free-range, calf liver, cooked only enough to take the odor off, bottled plain water, and a seperate saucer. I'll be at the back table, when he arrives with his guest," Shego pointed, and Sharon nodded as Shego headed to her table. "Oh," Shego said over her sholder, "make sure you leave yourself a really, really good tip," she grinned as she headed for the table.

--

The chief wine steward had already come out, accomplanied by his assistants, to deliver the wine and get approval from his customer. He opened the first bottle and poured a small sample for Shego. She swirled it, sniffed the aroma, sipped, and nodder her approval. He filled her glass and then placed the bottle, capped, back into the holder for chilling.

She sat and sipped for only a few moments before she caught them from the corner of her eye as they entered the bar from the gift shop visit. They headed directly for her. Shego started to stand, but he waved her down as he approached to avoid undue attention. The waiter deposited the covered dish and left just before the pair reached the table.

"Please, don't get up on my account," Carlton wryly smiled.

"I wasn't: it was for her," Shego retorted. She knelt down and petted the beautiful animal. "This is Mandy, right? I've never seen a Lithuanian wolfhound before," she added.

Carlton nodded and replied "You're right, Sheila; this is, indeed, Mandy," as he took her pro-offered hand as she stood and kissed it. "A woman of intelligence, discernment, and beauty: Drew is a very lucky man, indeed," he said as he lifted his head and looked into her eyes.

'If I was Princess right now, I'd be blushing,' Shego thought as she took her seat, and Carlton took his seat across from her.

"You're not too bad, yourself: I'm really liking the wine-colored double-breasted blazer," Shego replied, and Carlton nodded his reply to her compliment.

"This is for Mandy: I took the liberty of ordering for her," Shego then pointed at the covered dish. "A plate of free-range minced calf liver, cooked only enough to take the odor off, a bottled water, and a seperate saucer for her water: I assume that she doesn't drink from the bottle since she's a lady _**and**_ she _**is**_ refined, unlike _some_ people we know," Shego smiled, and Carlton laughed as he lifted the cover, beamed, and placed the dish on the floor for Mandy. He then placed the saucer on the floor, uncapped the water, and poured some of the bottled water into it.

"Thank you, my dear," Carlton said as he capped the water bottle. "This just makes me even more certain that I'm talking to the right person," Carlton said as he reached for the wine bottle and poured a glass for himself and poured another for Shego, recapping it as he laced it back in the holder. Mandy sniffed the water as if it was a fine wine and then lapped at it delicately. Occasionally, as the conversation progressed, she nibbled at her minced treat.

"To Mandy, or more specifically, to Amanda," he clicked Shego's glass, breathed in the aroma from his own glass, and sipped. "A '1998,' if I'm correct, no?" he smiled.

"It had better be: you're paying for it," Shego smirked.

She took a sip, and then she put her glass on the table and leaned forward, propping her head on her hands with both elbows on the table. "So, tell me, Carlton Jeremiah Michael Jones, a.k.a Falsetto Jones, by reputation the world's richest and most successful thief, what do you want with 'li'l ol' me?'" She fluttered her eyelashes and spoke with her best Southern drawl at the end, but neither of them could hold back, and they both laughed once, then snickered for a few moments.

"And, what does _any_ of this have to do with Kimberly Amanda Flanagan?" Shego shot her bolt, and Carlton winced as her burst struck the target dead-on.

Shego watched him close his eyes, silently mouth something, and then he opened them. She would have sworn that she saw a glint of a tear behind his grin.

"I'll tell you, Miss Go," he replied, and Shego winced: she remembered _that_ period of her life, "but only because I believe that you will help me.

"And, by the way," he smiled, "it was on a _Friday_ night for me, not a _Tuesday_," he grinned, and Shego chuckled silently as Carlton began to speak...

--

"We were young and stupid," Carlton began, and Shego snorted.

"We thought that we, the six of us, could break into a high-security facility, steal the diamond, and recover the dogs. The fact that we'd never done anything like this before didn't seem to concern us," he mused out loud.

"You have to understand: we believed that technology could solve all of our problems, so I bought the best jamming equipment money could buy, the best outfits that could provide us the most concealment and protection, and the best equipment of all kinds: communications, weapons, you name it, that we thought we'd need to carry this off. Money was no object: after all, I was rich, and the others weren't exactly poor pikers, either," he laughed.

He poured a full glass. "To my friends," he said as he took a drink for each name:

"James Augustus Clement;

"Reggie Stephen Nation;

"Regina Stephanie Nation;

"Dr. Marilyn Michelle Meadows (or, Doc3M, as she went by);and

"Kimberly Amanda Flanagan," he finished off the glass.

"Why were you going there, in the first place?" Shego asked.

"It was her father's diamond," he began, and he stopped when Shego looked perplexed. "I did leave out a few minor details, didn't I?" he grinned.

"Ya _think_?" Shego shot back with a laugh, and she picked up the bottle and poured both him and herself each another glass, almost finishing off the bottle. He took a sip before he continued.

"Professor Jefferson Karlos Flanagan, the gentleman who found the Kimber Diamond almost by accident on a wild boar tracking session in, of all places, northern Arkansas, named the diamond after his just-born daughter, Kimberly Amanda Flanagan. I think that's the reason Amanda hated the name Kimberly." he explained. "He later told me that the darned thing was lying on the ground, just waiting for someone to pick it up: what are the odds?" He laughed.

"And, you probably aren't the biggest fan of the name, either, I imagine?" Shego smiled a thin smile, and Carlton nodded.

"Ah, yes, Miss Possible," he stared forward. "She was a bit of a surprise in her escape when she carried the diamond back to the museum and the Townsends. That's why I called you, as a matter of fact; but, I'm getting ahead of myself.

"Professor Flanagan and the Townsends were partners in the beginning, but Suzanne," and the venom almost dripped from his lips when he mentioned her name, "managed somehow to swindle the diamond from Jefferson when Kimberly was five years old. He would never tell me or her just what happened, but they were no longer the friends that they had been before the find.

"Jefferson would tell his daughter, and she would tell me, stories about the diamond and how she even played with it when she was two and three. After she received her Master's degree, she promised her dad that she would, somehow, recover the diamond and return it to him for his birthday.

"It was purely coincidental that we learned that the Townsends were also planning to perform experiments on these beautiful animals for cryogenics research; Regina got word of it from one of her college professors that was working on other research projects and had been contacted by the Townsends. She told her twin brother, Reggie, and we suddenly found ourselves with two missions at the same location: one, to reclaim the diamond, and the other to save the Lithuanian wolfhounds."

"Uh-huh," Shego thought for a moment, and then she grinned and took on a totally faux British accent: "So, Carlton, old sod, just what _**was**_ Amanda to you: was she just another 'pickle on a pike', or was she the perfect 'bangers and mash?'"

"You nailed it, Shego," he laughed at her references, smiled and petted Mandy's head; Mandy rewarded him with a lick of his hand. "I was in love with Amanda, but I couldn't ever tell her: she was so stunningly beautiful to me, so glamorous, so perfect, and I was just a klutz on the bottom of the food chain who had money."

"Sounds like another sidekick I know," Shego observed wryly. Carlton thought for a moment, and then he broke into laughter.

"You're right," he laughed. "I never realized the connection, Shego; that could be why I was so annoyed with young Stoppable: he was a younger version of me, in a frighteningly similar role.

"The difference, Shego, was that Miss Possible was ready for me: we weren't ready for professionals, for security who didn't care that we were idealistic kids.

"James, Mandy, and I went after the dogs: we found them exactly where we suspected they would be, and we managed to get them to follow us out of the holding area without any major problems.

"That's when the fun began.

"I heard gunfire over our communications link, and I heard Regina scream 'We surrender! We surrender! We're unarmed!" and I heard Mandy scream. I later learned that a single shot had struck Reggie in the chest, just above the vest.

"How many more?" A rough voice screamed, and Regina screamed over the system. James hurried us to the dock where the vehicles were, and he ran out, calling "I'll be all right: Mandy, Carlton, get the dogs into that van, and I'll be back with everyone and the diamond.

"That was the last I saw of James, but not the last I heard from him," Carlton said sadly, and he paused for a moment. Shego watched him quietly as he took a deep breath before he continued.

"They shot Reggie," and she watched Carlton stop again; this time, she could see him visibly gathering himself back together. He then took another deep breath and continued: "They killed him, in front of his twin sister, and then they laughed about it."

"Even I'm not that low," Shego commented under her breath, and Carlton nodded his agreement.

"An explosion, I later learned, was set off by James, and it distracted them for a few moments, enough time for Doc3M to get away. She headed straight for us, but she didn't know she was being followed: again, the stupidity of youth," he smiled sadly.

"Doc3M got to the loading dock just as we arrived with the dogs.

"Unfortunately, her 'help' arrived just as we began to load the dogs onto the van, and shots rang around my ears. I felt something hit my leg, and I went down on top of one of the dogs in agony.

"'Carlton!' I heard Doc3M yell, and I think I heard another shot strike something with a thud, but I passed out when my head bounced off of the concrete floor.

"The next time I woke, I was in the back of a van with six strangely quiet Lithuanian wolfhounds, all staring at me, and my leg hurt to the high heavens. I realized that there was a tourniquet on my leg, and it hurt, but not as much as I would have expected.

"Then, I remembered: I was shot, and I passed out on the dock.

"How did I get into the van, and where was Mandy?

"I managed to get the side door open and stumbled out, realized that this was one of Townsend's vans that he used for transporting his scuba tank and recharging equipment, grabbed the sides of the van to help me walk, and I stumbled to the front of the fan.

"Mandy.

"She was there."

"She was slumped over the steering wheel, holding her Blueberry in her hand, holding it out toward the passenger side of the van.

"I managed to open the door and throw myself into the passenger seat, but she didn't respond.

"'Mandy,' I reached over and touched her, and I knew, right then and there, that I'd never get the chance to tell her to her breathing face that I loved her.

"Mandy was dead," Carlton said, and Shego could feel the love radiate from the man as if it were the heat of a blazing sun.

"I took her Blueberry from her cooling hand and, tears streaming down my face, also took the note she had written.

"I read the note, first:

"'Before you play my last message, C, I want you to know something:

"'I wish I'd had both the guts and cajoles,' I stopped and smiled, then continued, 'to tell you how much I was in love with you, but I never did: you were so much more than I ever dreamed I could be, and I always felt small in your shadow.

"She loved me, and I didn't even suspect it," Carlton said sadly to the air, and he continued.

"'I wish I had, but I wouldn't trade it for any of the time we spent together: we laughed, we sang, we played, and we danced. I wouldn't give up one thing for any of those dances, C.

"'I'll always be with you, just know that.

"'I love you, and I'll love you, forever.

"'_**m.**_'"

By the time that he finished recounted that last message, Shego wasn't trying to hide her tears any longer.

"What was on her Blueberry?" Shego asked after she managed to stop her tears.

"Lots of personal stuff: she told her dad that she really didn't hate the name Kimberly, but she was jealous of the diamond until she realized just how much it meant to him, and that was why we went after it and the dogs.

"Her message also told me what happened after I passed out: how Doc3M had put the tourniquet on my leg, got me and the dogs into the van, slammed the door shut, and gave Mandy orders to take off." Carlton paused for a moment and took a small sip of the Dom. "In the message Mandy left she said that Doc3M said, 'I'll be behind you, I just have to get the guys,' Mandy said she could see her limp back into the open, what turned out to be the clean line of fire."

He paused before he continued, and Shego knew what was coming:

"She lied to Mandy." "The gunman cut her down in an instant.

"Mandy got into the van, fired up the engine, and floored it.

"Gunfire came through the back of the van, and one lucky bullet found Mandy's right lung," Carlton said matter-of-factly, and Shego winced. "She realized that her only chance was to get to a hospital, but she didn't think she could do it and not bounce the dogs and me all over the back of the van.

"So, she saved us, and lost her own battle," he smiled, and Shego felt sorry for the man.

"What neither of us counted on was the number of hits that the helium tanks took that were strapped in the back of the van. Helium began escaping and started to fill the rear cabin, and it headed forward to Mandy as it filled the van. You could hear it in her voice: it went up in pitch as she talked, until her last words were almost a caricature of her own voice.

"It wasn't until after I heard her speak her last words that I spoke, and," Carlton smiled, "imagine my surprise," he sat silent, and Shego thought about the abuse he had taken from the villain community for all these years. 'None of them knew the story' she realized.

"The dogs completely lost their ability to bark," Carlton added. "The extreme amount of helium that they were exposed to affected their vocal chords differently; but, at least, they survived."

"What happened to the rest of your friends?" Shego had to ask, even though she knew the answer.

"Jason had a surprise for security: he had decided that, if he died, he would take as much of the factory with him, so he had rigged 20 pounds of C4 compound inside his shirt and had left some bricks along the way to the safe, and he had them all connected to a dead-man switch. He told the security guards not to kill him, and he even showed them the switch, but they didn't believe him: the resultant explosion took out half the plant."

"We never got the diamond, and the price for its ransom went up, so I had to use 'other means' to expand my fortune. I couldn't resist the one chance when it was out of the vault, though: I had to try, one more time, for Mandy.

"That's why I need you, Shego: I have the money that the Townsends want, and I need someone to deliver it that won't be coerced or intimidated by them and can return with the diamond…alive.

"Why now?"

"He's dying, and I want him to have it before he sees his daughter," was his reply.

"Will you, Shego?"

Shego looked into the hopeful and sad eyes, and she made her decision.

She started humming a tune, and Carlton's eyes snapped wide open. Then, she leaned forward and began to sing to him in a soft voice, so soft that he was the only person in the bar that heard it:

Looking back, on the memories of  
All the fights we shared  
and the lairs blown up  
For a long time  
All the world was night  
How could I have known  
that a plant would make it right?

And I...I wish that I had known  
The way it all would end  
The way it all would go  
Our lives weren't better left to chance  
Boy, I could've missed the pain  
But I'd have had to miss  
The dance…with you

Holding you, I held everything  
All this time with you, I wished I were your queen  
If I'd only known how the world would change  
Then who's to say  
You know, I might have skipped it all

And I...I wish that I had known  
The way it all would end  
The way it all would go  
Our lives weren't better left to chance  
Boy, I could've missed the pain  
But I'd have had to miss  
The dance…with you

Yes my life  
is better now with you  
I could'a skipped the pain  
But I'd have had to miss  
The dance…with you.

She stopped, tears streaming down her face, and she looked into his tear-soaked face.

"When do you want it done?" she asked.

"As soon as you're available, Shego," Carlton managed to get out with a smile. "I have the money in my suite: I hired Hank Perkins," and Shego chuckled inside, "to work for me a couple of months before the Lowardians hit, and he's been a godsend with his mad organizational skills. He's got the money upstairs in a briefcase."

Shego wiped her face with the napkin and smiled. "This will be so worth it: helping you, and scaring the pants off of Perkins, to boot: a two-fer," She said as she stood. "I'll be back in a few hours, then," she turned and started to take a step.

"WAIT!" she stopped when she heard him call out.

"How did you know that was 'our song?'" he asked, and she grinned with a devilish look and headed for the elevators.

--

Carlton ordered dinner (an antipasto appetizer, to start, that he shared a bit of with Mandy), and then ordered a paella that he thought would challenge the kitchen.

When it arrived, still steaming and smelling wonderfully of saffron, onion, garlic, peppers, seafood, and spicy sausages, he forgot for a moment and dived into the wonderful creation, smiling broadly as he began to devour the contents of the platter and laughed as Mandy, after unsuccessfully begging, lay down and finished her liver.

He had a very leisurely dinner, and he topped it off with another challenge to the kitchen: a chocolate-and-cream-cheese soufflé. Again, the kitchen didn't disappoint, the soufflé arriving in less than 30 minutes, hot and still puffed to its full extension.

He was one-third of the way through dessert when Shego sat down with a briefcase at her side.

"Well?" Carlton asked.

"They deserve anything that I can come up with," Shego smiled as she flamed her right hand.

"They didn't know who I was, and they tried to tell me that the diamond wasn't for sale. I explained that I had just come from you and placed the briefcase on the table, informing them of the contents. They tried to convince me that there had been a price increase during the time that I came over.

"I stared at them in shock, and Suzanne said, and I quote, 'tell the loser to go steal another 10 million, and he still won't have enough,' unquote," Shego smiled, and Carlton was immediately worried.

"Shego! What did you do?"

"I 'explained' to her that you weren't a loser, and that she was going to honor the contract.

"She laughed and told me that would never happen unless I got a super villain to convince her, so I flamed one hand and asked her if helping to save the world got me any bonus points. Then, I introduced myself," Shego smiled.

"They took the money out of the briefcase and placed the diamond inside, and then they asked me if they could do anything else for me."

"Shego," Carlton laughed, "you didn't?"

"I may have suggested a small donation of a few million or so to animal research; coincidentally, the same amount that they got from you, and I told her I'd be _very_ happy if she could 'make it so,'" Shego smirked, then laughed.

"You actually got it," Carlton marveled, but Shego held onto the handle of the briefcase.

"Not until I get mine," she said.

"Certainly: how much?"

"You have a picture of Mandy?"

"To quote someone near to me, 'Well, D'OI!'" Carlton laughed. "Why?"

"I want to see what the woman who has your heart, even after all these years, looked like," she said.

Carlton reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his MePod, clicked it to his favs, and selected an image. "Here she is: I caught this picture of her when she was babysitting in Go City."

Shego took one look at the picture and reached for the full bottle of Dom Perignon, uncorked it, and proceeded to down a full third of it in one gulp. When she put the bottle on the table, tears were streaming down her face.

"Kimmie," was all she said before she picked up the bottle again and took another huge swig, then slammed it back on the table, waking Mandy from her nap.

"Sorry, Mandy," Shego explained, "but I'm not in a very 'lady-like' mood, right now," and Mandy wagged her tail, accepting Shego's apology.

"Shego?"

"She was babysitting in Go City?" Shego asked as he watched the montage of emotions play across her face.

"Did you ever take a good look at the little girl in the picture with her, Carlton? A _really, __**really**_ good look?"

"No, why?"

"Long, full black hair? Slim, boyish figure, complete with a smirk on her face?"

Carlton looked at the picture and, suddenly, the pieces fell into place.

"Kimmie was my hero: she had her B. S. Ed., she was a Graduate Student in Education and Childhood Development, and she was everything that I wanted to be: smart, pretty, and she had a really cute BF, to boot," Shego smiled through her tear-covered face. "Then, one day, after she got her Master's degree, she disappeared, and I never heard from her again.

"I was so mad, at her, at everything," Shego continued, "I couldn't even say her name again without hate in my voice. Then, imagine my surprise to then be battling a cheerleader named Kimberly: I stuck her with the name 'Kimmie' because I hated it _**and**_ her, and it got under her skin, so….

"I never knew what happened to her…" Shego's voice trailed off, and Carlton watched a smile form through her tears.

"Do you think the kitchen is still open?" Shego asked.

"Yes; why?"

"I just had a hankerin' for Kimmie's favorite dish: paella," and Carlton laughed as he signaled for the waiter.

"You certainly woke Hank Perkins up, Shego," Carlton said after the meal was ordered. "He called me about two minutes after you left, ranting about having ordered room service and finding you at the door instead of his pizza. I think you made the poor boy wet himself, Shego," Carlton laughed.

"'Why didn't you tell me she was coming?'" he asked me, and Shego grinned: she knew what the response would be.

"I told him," Carlton sat up, and he and Shego said it together:

"'This _**was**_ my way of telling you, Hank,'" and the two of them laughed.

"Kimmie's up there busting a gut, herself, I imagine," Shego said, and Carlton nodded.

"I'd like to propose a toast, Shego," Carlton poured the last of both bottles into their glasses, and he held his up and waited for Shego to lift hers.

"To the 'Kimmies' in our lives," he began, and Shego snorted. "They drive us insane, and we are both the better for them: without Kimberly Ann Possible, I would never have approached you, my muffin-top-pincher," he grinned, and Shego burst into laughter, "and, you would have never found the answer to your mystery."

"Jinkies, Carlton," Shego laughed, "I'd forgotten about the muffins."

"Hey, they were my favorites, the giant blueberry ones, and you always would rip the tops off of them and eat the tops, right in front of me."

"And, then, to 'top' it all," Carlton laughed, "you _laughed_ at me when I tried to get mad at you!" he complained.

"Well, the top _**is**_ the best part of the muffin, you know," Shego retorted.

"That closed 'the case of the topless muffins,'" Carlton grinned, and they laughed and talked until the second giant pan of paella arrived.

"I still think you look silly in that mustache," Shego added as she scooped a large portion of the paella onto her plate, and Carlton chuckled.

"She always wanted the goatee, but she hated the mustache, too; perhaps it's time," he grinned as he stroked it, contemplating the final action.

Carlton ordered two more bottles, chilled, and the waiters and the bartender were all very, very happy.

--

Jack Hench smiled as the screen pulled away. "Wasn't that a most touching story folks?"

Shego glared around the room, making sure that not one single villain was laughing. "One word... just one word... and that person gets the most painful enema of their lives."

Jack coughed at the implied threat, quickly moving on before any of his guests decided to run in terror. "Our next presenter is someone I'm sure you're all familiar with, since he just helped save the world... yet still won't pay his bills... Dr. Drakken!"

--

Thanks to my betas JAKT, Star-Eva01, and Ran Hakubi, and one of my favorite inspirations, my other AG, Akinyi.


	3. Dr Drakken

**A/N:**_ Well ladies and gentlemen ( and Mace) here is my entree for Zaratan's contest. And as always , I dont own any KP characters. Disney , Mark, and Bob does ( Hea guys! still waiting on that phone call from on that deal with Shego)_

_--_

**Villain's Convention - Chapter 3 - Dr. Drakken by CaptainIT**

_--_

It was on Tuesday when me and Shego arrived at Henchco's Annual Villains Convention. As I parked the hovercraft, Shego went over to say hi to a few of her close contacts she kept in touch with. I decided to go stuff myself with them yummy funnel cakes. Oh how I love coming to these conventions where I can pit my evil genius against other villains and share ideas and stories with them. Later that evening I join Shego and a few of my corhorts. I was then introduce on stage where I proceeded to tell my corhorts and future evil doers on how I..Drew Lipsky..became the feared... Dr. Drakken.

"And now, villains and villainess, here he is without futher addo, the man who's lazy enough to sent his sidekick in to steal my stuff over at Hencho. I give you ... Dr. Drakken."

After a nice round of applause ( and a bunch of laughing) I finally made my way to the stage. I needed to remind me to sent Shego over to Hench's office to BBQ his but first, I have a speech to make.

"I remember it was on a Tuesday because the day after I dropped out of collage. I was shock and devastated by my collage buddies that I thought I knew were my friends. Especially one James Possible who I though was my best friend just stood there and laugh in my face when I introduce my bebe robots for dates for them that night. That was the night that turn myself into another direction."

"My first lair, per say, was the basement at mother's house. You could say it was the only lair that Kim Possible and that buffoon didnt blow up. I was working on a new blue food dye for a candy called W&W. I came close to perfecting the fomula when the most blood-curdling scream that the human race ever have to tolerant bellowed down the staircase."

" DREW THEODORE P. LIPSKY WHERE DID YOU HIDE MY CIGARETTE ?"

"Mother's sceam can wake up the dead the Middleton Cemetery. But the damage was already done. She scared me right into the dye vat were it spilled all over me.The dye was a permanent solution and that is how my skin has this blue tint color to it."

"Just a minute now," said Monkey Fist as he pointed to a small paper cup of W&Ws that he was holding in his hand.

" You mean to tell us that the blue W&Ws in this batch here is you food dye?"

" Yes it is. Quite a remakable invention. What do you think?"

It was a bit odd to see my fellow criminals running over and hanging their heads out window for some reason.

"That is how my fortune came to be to afford my inventions, my henchmen, and of course Shego."

"How did you ever get that scar on your cheek?" said a villain wearing a "cornhusker" outfit.

"The scar on my face is another story. After I won the pie eating contest at our annual picnic, Shego notice a smudge on my upper cheek. She'd forgot she had on her clawed gloves and naaaaaaa... you can guess the rest."

" You should see him at a pie eating contest," snickered Shego. "Not a pretty sight."

"SHEGO ! ...naa...well, anyway this brings me to a good subject. How I met Shego."

" It was another Tuesday right after I put an ad in the Villains Monthly that she came in. In fact, she was to only person to answer my ad. And you should have seen the way she looked." I said as I smiled.

" If you say one word Dr. D ... just one word...your new lair will be the Middleton Cemetery."

" Yes Shego." I say saddly.

" Good , now I got to go to the bathroom. Those W&Ws are working on me."

As Shego left, My toothy grin began to appear. A large picture appeared on a giant screen behind me.

" My security camara happen to snap this photo of her the first time she entered my lair for an interview."

Soon a picture of a skinny, underdeveloped, bucktooth, 1950s horn-rimmed glasses wearing, green-skined Shego was put on the screen. Snickers and laughter can be heard everywhere as Shego came back.The screen went blank in a New York second.

" Whats so funny? Do I have toilet paper on my shoes?"

" No, no , not at all." said Monkey Fist as he and Duff Killigan were on the floor laugher hard.

Shego just sat down as the laughter started to die down. She kept a suspicious eye out to what the laughter was about.

"Aye blue boy, so where did you get that interesting lab coat outfit at? The thrift store having a 50 off sale?" said Killigan as everybody was snickering.

"Ill tell you where I got it you skirt wearing circus freak."

"IT'S A KILT."

" You and Dementor should go walking around as a mother and daughter duo since he like to wear a dress too."

" IT'S A HOUSECOAT." shouted Dementor as me and everybody in the audience was having a good laugh.

" I suppose your going to tell us you got that on a Tuesday too." deadpaned Monkey Fist.

" No actually it was Friday that I found it up in the attic at mom's house.This lab coat once belong to my brilliant grandfather Dr. Bartholomew Lipsky. Every time I listen to my grandfather's record on how he stole Dr. Demen's invention I still get a wonderful thrill rushing up my back. The coat was then pasted down to my father Dr. Theodore P. Lipsky who was a research scientist at a oil company. And now I, Dr. Drakken, will used it to take over the world with.

" Wait a minute."said Dementor."Your saying it was your grandfather who stoled my grandfather's invention and not Kim Possible's great-aunt Mim? YOUR GRANDFATHER WAS A CHEAP CROOK !"

"Oh Yea?...well who stoled the Pan Dementional Vortex Inducer just last week?"

" And look who stoled it just last month?...ha!..like grandfather, like grandson."

" Quiet, quiet, Ladies and gentlemen," said Duff Killigan." Let us all go hit the buffet line and get us a wee bite to eat. I hope they got haggis this time."

" Good call Duff.. let's go." said Shego.

As my partner in crime was was getting up to leave, I accidently hit the button on the podium that flash that hideous picture of my first incounter with my future partner. I never thought I would wet myself in public as I did that very moment.

"DRAKKEN!!...WHERE IN THE HELL DID YOU GET THAT PICTURE? YOU ARE SO DEAD MEAT MR."

It sure was nice of Frugal Lucre to put me up at his moms place till Shego finally cooled down. I figured it will be another year till I return to the lair...hopefully?

Jack Hench frowned as Dr. Drakken fled for his life. "He still didn't pay for that drink." He frowned briefly for a moment more before smiling back at the crowd. "Now, let's put our hands together for the inestimable Professor Dementor!"


	4. Professor Dementor

**Villain's Convention - Chapter 4 - Professor Dementor by Akinyi**

A scattered applause echoed as Jack Hench stepped off the podium. Time stretched on, but there was no sign of Dementor. To their immense befuddlement, the crowd could hear shuffling going on behind the podium, though saw no sign of anyone. Then, a lanky assistant suddenly scurried out across the stage, carrying what appeared to be a step stool.

A testy, heavily accented "Finally!" could be heard, and the assistant's step stool vanished as whoever was hidden behind the podium snatched it away. There was a bit more shuffling, and then a small yellow-hued man finally appeared behind the microphone.

"Honestly, vat does it take around here for a zittle co-operation people!" he yelled to someone or someones out of view of the audience before turning back to the assembled villains. "Ah, yes, anyhow. I'm sure you all know me by now…"

Only a tiny cricket answered him.

"Anyvone?"

The gathered villains looked back and forth at one another, shrugging. Dementor looked for Drakken, knowing that the blue man would surely recognize him, but he was nowhere to be seen. Oh wait, never mind. Dementor caught sight of his fellow villain hoarking down half of the free buffet at a nauseating speed, with Shego holding an umbrella at the ready.

Realizing the crowed still didn't know who he was, Dementor forgot about Drakken. "Ugh, I am known as Dementor! And don't forget zit!"

Recognition lit up a face of a villain dressed like and alligator. "Oh, hey I remember you! You're the one who got beat up by Kim Possible while wearing a dress!"

Much to Dementor's dismay, the audience finally seemed to know who he was.

"It vas a _house coat!_"

"Hey, are you going to get on with your story or not, _Dress_mentor?"

"Oh, ha ha very funny. I am almost forgetting the laugh vith that joke! But very well, I vill get on vith the story making.

"It all began ven I vas still just a lad. My family had moved here to America, just shortly after zat freak snow cone acczident that left me zo short, and I had ran away…"

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …. … … … … … …

"And stay out!"

Cold, frost covered pavement met the young man's face as the shopkeeper tossed him out onto the street quite literally. He stood, brushed himself off, and stormed down the slick sidewalk. That was the sixth person to deny him a job. And that was just today.

So what if his invention had gone a little haywire and smashed a few holes here and there? Surely the damage wasn't _that_ expensive. And if his invention _had_ worked, it would have made him and his potential boss rich.

Coming across an unoccupied bench, Nort DeMenz slumped down unceremoniously with a heavy sigh. So far his grand new life in America wasn't all that grand.

"Are you feeling down? Like you don't belong?"

The young man looked up at the sound of the voice. It was coming from a small television just a few feet away. As Nort DeMenz watched the ad for a new show involving heroes fighting against dastardly villains, an idea slowly started to form in his head.

He would still become an inventor after all.

In fact, he'd become the best inventor of all time. The best _evil_ inventor that is.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

His excitement sparking a new wave of energy within him, Nort DeMenz hurried along the slush covered sidewalks, his breath forming small puffs of clouds, until he found the store he was looking for. Sliding to a halt (and nearly falling flat on his back) he scrambled into the tiny bookstore.

"Oh ver is it? Ver is it? Ah ha!"

Beaming at his success, the young man brought the book he was searching for to the clerk. The storekeeper raised a questioning eyebrow at the title, but merely shrugged and bagged it up anyway.

Nearly bouncing in his enthusiasm, Nort DeMenz tossed the required cash on the desk, snatched his book, and raced back outside. Tossing the bag in the nearest trash can, he read the title.

_Villainy for Dummies_

_A Complete Guide for the Novice Evil-Doer _

_(Complete with Pictures)_

He flipped the book to page one.

_To be a successful villain, there are basic necessities that every future villain or villainess must obtain before plotting may begin._

_A lair. Preferably secret._

_One or more henchmen._

_An evil alias. Avoid basing your new name off of food products or hair care supplies for legal reasons._

"Hmm, zometing tellz me mother vud not appreciate her living room being converted into a place of evil. Oh, zat reminds me, I must write her a nice postcard vonce I rule ze vorld." Nort DeMenz closed his book and merrily headed down the street. So caught up in thoughts of world domination, he failed to notice the lanky teen stepping in front of him until it was too late.

Rubbing his now very sore back, Nort DeMenz glanced up at who he'd hit. The teen didn't look the slightest bit phased. Instead, he grinned and extended his hand in welcome.

"Good afternoon sir. My name is Hank Perkins. I see your carrying a guide to villainy with you."

Nort DeMenz, still sitting where he fell, cautiously shook the very energetic teen's hand as Hank continued on talking.

"Well today is your lucky day sir, for I just happen to have a degree in villainous enterprises."

Nort DeMenz finally got to his feet and stared skeptically at the teen in front of him. "You must be, vat, 18?"

"Very good observation sir, very good. You have a keen eye. You'll make a good villain for sure!"

"Urm, ok zen…"

"Now let's get you a lair!"

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

Nort DeMenz, with Hank Perkins in tow, glanced at the building in front of him skeptically. "Time share lair? Vat in ze vorld is dat?"

"Only the biggest villain craze to sweep the nation!" Hank declared animatedly. "Now let's get you moved in!"

Inside was spacious enough to hold one or two larger death rays or some other evil inventions he could think of, and rather devoid of everything save for a few crates scattered here and there.

"Alright, we've got your lair and your henchman taken care of," Hank said proudly, "now all you need is you villainous name."

The soon-to-be villain took on a thoughtful look. "Ah! How about 'Nort the Destroyer'?"

Hank blinked. "You're kidding, right?"

"Nortinator?"

"No."

"Nasty Nort?"

"Nuh-uh."

"DeMenz of Destruction?"

"Definitely getting colder."

Nort DeMenz concentrated hard. He wanted some part of his name included in his evil alias. But how? _Zink about vat you vish to accomplish… Vell, I'll be ze greatest evil inventor one day…._

Suddenly, the perfect name came to him.

"Demen-tor!"

Hank was about to shake his head when he stopped himself. "By golly, I think you've finally got it! Let our life of villainy begin, Dementor."

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

A few days later, Hank Perkins stepped outside the time share lair and was greeted by the sight of a large unloading truck, and a wickedly grinning Dementor.

"Ah, guten Morgen, Hank. I have been coming up with ze schemes all mornzing, and have decided to buy a pack of vicious Rottveilers!"

Hank, for once, was less than enthusiastic. "R-R-Rottweilers?"

"Ah, here zey are now!"

"Wonderful," Hank whimpered, now many shades paler.

A burly truck driver came out, checking a clipboard. "You, ah, Demen…tor?"

"Zat iz correct."

"And you, ah, ordered 8 vicious Rottweilers?"

"Ja."

In the background, Hank could be heard sniveling. "_Eight_??"

"Hmm, well, ah, sign here….and here….initial here….uh huh…and once more here…. Okay, Demen-tor. You are now the proud owner of eight Rottweilers. And, uh, I'd keep them away from scrappy over there." The truck driver motioned towards Hank, who was by this point passed out cold on the ground.

The metal crate was dropped off, and the trucker drove off.

Dementor, grinning broadly, stared into the black maw of the barred opening of the cage, which was now rocking back and forth. Eight pairs of shining yellow eyes glowed back at him.

Hank came around just in time to see Dementor opening the cage. He gave a scream high pitched enough it was almost too high for a human to hear and promptly fainted again.

All eight terrifying, vicious, ferocious dogs burst from the cage at once.

Or rather, eight not so terrifying, vicious, ferocious _puppies_ tumbled from the cage at once.

"Puppies?! Vat in ze vorld am I supposed to do with zese puppies?!"

One rather bold puppy ran up to Hank and licked his cheek. The villainous assistant opened his eyes and instantly scrambled backwards. A second later, Hank realized that it wasn't a fully fledged dog trying to eat his face after all.

"Aw, they're cute."

Dementor sighed as the other seven puppies flopped and played about his feet. "Cute vas not vat I am looking for."

The puppy Hank was holding yipped cheerfully.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

"Ok, so I was skimming through Villains R Us magazines, and it seems that colorful skin tones are in." Hank, with the same puppy close on his heels, entered the main room of the lair with his face behind said magazine.

Dementor looked up from his latest invention's blueprints. "You mean like ze colors of ze rainbow?"

"Apparently so."

"Vat about blue zen?"

"Hmm, seems to be taken by some….Drakken….fellow."

"Vierd name," Dementor muttered. "Ok, zo, green?"

"Taken."

Grumbling, Dementor looked up from his charts again. "Vat color iz left zen?"

"I hear mauve is becoming popular…"

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

"I cannot believe I am doing zis," Dementor grumbled. The newfound villain was colored an odd shade of pinkish purple and accompanied by Fritz (the boldest puppy that Hank had become besotted with, and the only one Dementor had decided to keep) who was wearing a matching collar.

"So how vill zis help me dominate the vorld?"

"You have to walk before you can run," Hank countered merrily. "Now you have that thinga-ma-gig you made?"

"Of courze. Vith it I can bring all money vithin a twenty foot area to me vith a just press of a button!"

Fritz gave a yip, his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth.

"And your ray gun?"

"Ja, ja," the villain grumbled impatiently. "And vat is the purpose of zis ridiculous helmet again?"

"It's part of you super cool villain disguise!"

Dementor gave an irritable 'Hmph.' "I still zink a cape vould have been more hip vith the hop, as the teenz say."

"Let's just focus on the task at hand shall we?" Hank said, glancing at his map.

"Zis area does not strike me as a bank," Dementor said, turning a questioning glance on his assistant.

Hank studied his map again. "Hmm, looks like it to me. Says Right here: First Bank of Middleton."

"If you inzist." Dementor shrugged and headed off to sneak inside the 'bank.'

Curious, Hank glanced back at his map he had purchased at a dollar store. Suddenly, his face fell. "Oh….no…. Fritz, we have a major problem."

Written on the bottom right corner of the map was the date the map was printed.

1951.

Looking up, Hank saw what _used_ to be the First Bank of Middleton. Though, it no longer was a bank. Instead it appeared to be some sort of children's play area.

"Oh….snap…"

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

A young girl and a young boy sat at a Whack-A-Mole game inside of JP Bearymore's Pizza Party-torium. The young boy was enjoying himself immensely, even though his friend was doing no more than glaring and holding her nose in a feeble attempt to avoid the burnt pizza smell. Her parents were keeping an eye on the two toddlers from a nearby table.

"I'm bored," the young girl mumbled. "Let's go play in the ball pit!"

"Oh, but the burnt pizza smell isn't as strong over there," her friend whined.

"Exactly. Now c'mon."

Without waiting for his answer, she grabbed his arm and dragged him over to the ball pit.

"Oh! Let's see what's behinds the pit!"

"But we're not supposed to be back there!"

Ignoring her friend, the little girl walked to the back of the pit, her friend reluctantly following. Once there, someone stepped in their path.

"Look! A purple clown!" The girl said.

The young man (aka the purple clown) looked down at the two kids who had broken his cover.

"Shoo zittle children."

The girl giggled. "You talk funny Mr. Clown."

"Clown? Do I look like a clown to you? Nein, I do not! Now move azide children, or get on vith the telling me ver ze money iz."

"You can't takes any money!" The small girl, bravery far exceeding her size, complained, her hands on her hips and her bright green eyes flashing dangerously. "That'd be stealing. And Mommy says stealing is real bad!"'

"Oy, child, I do not _care_ about vat the law and itz zily rules zay I can or cannot do. I am a _villain._" Dementor moved to shove the young girl aside when the young boy, who had been cowering to the side just a few moments ago, suddenly found his voice.

"Hey don't touch her!"

The small boy began punching the villain's leg, even though each hit merely bounced off harmlessly.

"Oh, izn't zis funny! You zink you can beat me zilly child? Well then you have been zinking wrong!"

With a flick of his leg, Dementor sent the boy flying through the air. Lucky for the boy, the ball pit caught his fall instead of the not-so-soft floor. The girl, having seen her best friend flung aside, literally snarled and rushed at the villain. Having grown weary of being held up by such tiny nuisances, Dementor aimed his ray gun at the toddler.

A flash of light beamed towards the girl. When the smoke cleared, only a charred spot on the floor remained where she had once been. Suddenly horrified, Dementor could only stare at what he had done. Little did he know, the girl had rolled to the side at the last second.

"Missed me, miss me, you're so silly."

The girl's mocking voice startled Dementor, who snapped his head around just in time to see her jump up. A split second later, she came down on his helmet, hard. The helmet slid down over his eyes, blinding him.

"Oh you blasted brat! Just vait til I get zis helmet off!"

"Now, Ronnie!"

The small boy burst out of the ball pit, sending a countless rainbow of balls spilling out over the rim right where Dementor was about to stumble.

As the mauve colored villain lost his footing on a suddenly rolling surface, the young girl dove for the ball pit and her friend.

Her jump came up just inches short.

Just as she braced herself to smash against the floor, a small hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the safety of the ball pit. Cracking her one eye open just a slit, she saw the upside down image of her best friend grinning down at her.

The two kids leaned against the edge of the pit and watched with immense satisfaction as Dementor careened into two brawny security guards. His feeble excuses could be heard as he was dragged away.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

His tale finished, Dementor shook his head sadly. "I never did zee Hank again after zat. And of course I refuzed to remain mauve. Yellow vas much more intimidating."

The audience merely stared up at the diminutive villain. Finally, the alligator man spoke up.

"So….you were beat up by a couple of 4 year olds?"

"Yes, zat about zums it up."

"Oh. I see."

There was a long pause, and then the audience burst into laughter.

"I do not get paid enough for zis," Dementor grumbled crossly as he hopped off his stepping stool and stormed off stage.

Jack Hench was smiling as he made his way to the podium again. "Wasn't that... educational folks." At the podium, the head of Hench Co, Jack Hench read from the card presented to him. "Ladies and Gentlemen," he began. "The next on our schedule is a person well known, White Stripe."


	5. White Stripe

**Villain's Convention - Chapter 5 - White Stripe by Joe Stoppinghem**

The older man got up from his seat and replaced Mr. Hench at the microphone. As he looked around the crowd, he was amazed at what he saw. Many people in costumes, some in lab coats, some wearing funny hats, helmets actually almost completely covering their faces. One in a green suit, whoa, the one in the green suit, "_Remember to connect with the chick in the green suit. I mean whoa._" he thought to himself.

"I was asked here to present my first step into the life of crime," he began. "Well, for me it started with a bit part on a TV show. I was the villain for the week, know as White Stripe. The show was only on one year, but in time for whatever reason, I began to believe I was White Stripe. Many of you may know of the actions I took at the Ferret Fest sometime ago. I thought I was going up against my fowl foe but actually it was another hero's side kick, Ron Stepupable..."

"Who is this guy?" ask Shego to Dr. Drakken. "Is he for real? I mean all he did was to mess up a book nerds convention?"

"Shego, shh," the blue skinned partner replied, "It's White Stripe, I admired him for years. His episode was my favorite."

"Yea, but"

"Aye, lassie," Killigan interrupted, "He was my favorite too. I want to hear what he has to say."

"I'm surrounded by a bunch of comic book nerds," Shego replied looking for a way out.

"In the process, of getting all the materials," the present speaker continued, "I never felt that good in a long time. All the planning, scheming, checking every angle no chance of any errors. For the first time in a long time, I was on top of the world."

He was checking for the reaction to the crowd, for the moment he wasn't sure if they were with him or just thinking he was a washed up actor. So he figured, _"In for a penny, in for a pound."_ Now was his final act, his winning performance.

"I was hoping to finally bring that, that, thing, that thing what was a HERO to so many down to his knees. I want him to suffer all the years I suffered." He spat word hero like bitting into a spoiled piece of meat and retching it out and the foul order and taste which would never go away. No matter how long of time will pass, the hatred would stay with him for the rest of his life. "I wanted the fans of that hero to feel the disgust that I feel, for as long as they would remember. But that boy, that, that impostor, was able to stop my plans. Sure, I acted like everything was alright, hey I needed to cover my tracks. To give me time to formulate a new plan, a better one... I will soon be taking my revenge on the intruder, and the stink I plan to lay on him will be nothing compared to the unfortunate idiots of the TV Trash hep channel. No Ron Stepupable's days are numbered."

As he was stepping away from the microphone, the room was silent. As he and Mr Hench were walking towards the end of the stage, Rudolph Farnsworth turned towards Jack Hench and asked, "Well, you think they bought it?"

"Sir, as they say you still have the acting chops. I really appreciate your time in this. Just wanted to prime the pump a bit. "

"Anytime," Rudolph replied. "You have my check? I need to be going. I've made...plans."

Jack Hench quickly returned to the stage, smiling brightly. "Wasn't that fascinating folks. And now for our next guest, a woman who needs no introduction... Camille Leon!"


	6. Camille Leon

My entry for Zaratan's contest

I don't own the Kim Possible universe.

--

**Villain's Convention - Chapter 6 - Camille Leon by Maetch**

"We now announce our next contestant. Please welcome Camille Leon." the announcer spoke as the ditzy shapeshifter took the podium, a big smile on her face. As usual, she was oblivious to the fact that barely anyone was cheering, save for a few sympathy claps from a bored Shego.

"Thank you, thank you." she grinned as she adjusted the microphone. "Y'know, I never really understood the criminal lifestyle. I mean, before that, I was all, like, going everywhere and doing photo shoots and acting roles and whatever. But, y'know what? I actually like being bad. I mean, you get to go where you want, and no one's bugging you about bills, and so on and such. I mean, I never got that kind of freedom before, and now I'm, like, uh..."

"GET ON WITH IT ALREADY!" Shego shouted as the other villains nodded in agreement.

"Huh? Oh, right. My first theft." Camille shook her head as she pulled out her story and began to read. "My criminal career began like any other day in my career... at the movies."

--

"Annnnnnnd... CUT!" Jimmy Blamhammer shouted from his chair as he oversaw yet another one of his ill-conceived films. "Perfect! Specific! Absolutely terrific! Take five, all of you!" As the cast and crew left the set, Jimmy went over to one of the actors and grinned. "Babe, you were terrific."

"Of course!" she replied. "After all, you can't spell 'movie' without ME."

"Let's not go that far, Leon!" Jimmy continued. "This is your first big movie. Not like those so-called 'independent films' you've done before." Jimmy grunted. "Honestly, those things are a waste of good talent. What good is seeing someone act if no one even knows the movie exists?"

"I know. Like, can you believe it? I'm working with Jimmy Blamhammer himself!" Camille gleefully responded. "Three years of cheap films and lame reality shows can't even, like, compare to this." Deep down inside, Camille thought differently. _I wanted Steve Lucasburg, not this hack!_

"Well, stick with me babe, 'cause you'll be going places. And by places, I mean far more than you've ever known. I'm talking New York! Moscow! Brazil!"

"Brazil?" Camille blinked. "Where's that?" Jimmy only groaned at Camille's lack of geographical knowledge.

"Whatever! The point is, give you a bit of makeup and a wardrobe change, and it's almost like you're an all-new person. You're all the talent my film really needs." Jimmy encouraged. "Listen, babe! Take the rest of the day off! Go party!" This elicted a rousing groan from the crew, since Jimmy never gave them any special treatment, and yet he continued to fawn over her.

--

_And party I did. There I was, dancing the night away at the studio nightclub. Not a care in the world. No directors or anyone to order me around. To the locals, I was THE party girl._

"Dance! Dance! Dance!" the crowd chanted as Camille strutted her stuff onstage. To Camille, this was her favorite feeling, knowing that all eyes were on her. Deciding to liven things up a bit, Camille leapt forward in a flip, wowing the crowd as she flew into their waiting arms. Soon, she was in the mosh pit, being carried off to the corner.

However, as she was carried past a pole, Camille suddenly grabbed onto it and pulled herself up parallel before deciding to do a little amature poledancing. Nothing dirty, but definitely enough to fire up the crowd. She remained at her pole up until the song ended, after which the crowd exploded into cheers. Camille took a bow before returning to her barstool to catch her breath.

"Nice moves, babe." One of the boys complemented.

"Thanks! I, like, lettered in gymnastics in high school." Camille bragged. "Won some kind of college grant for it, though what kind of loser would want to go there?" she laughed.

"Hey! I'm a college student!" the boy protested.

"Wow! Stinks to be you, don't it!" Camille raucously laughed again. Insulted, the boy responded by taking his drink and splashing it in Camille's face.

"You know, you may be the life of the party now, but you really need to plan for your future." the insulted lad warned. "The party can't last forever, and when it ends, you may find yourself stuck in a really bad place." With that, he left in a huff. Camille only shrugged at the setback, then turned to the barkeep.

"Yo, get me a seltzer, and don't stall my time." Turning back to the crowd, Camille stood up on her barstool. "C'mon, folks. Let's keep this party going!" she shouted to a wild audience. Soon, the place was rocking once more.

--

It was one in the morning when Camille finally returned home to her father's mansion, and yet she seemed like she was still full of energy. Creeping into her house, Camille quietly skipped down the hall into her room, where an expansive collection of stuffed dolls and toys lay strewn about. Lined on the walls were personal memorabillia and posters for her favorite person in the world... herself. She was just about to turn the lights on when a figure leaped into her arms with a _meow_!

"Hey there, Debbie!" Camille happily greeted as her hairless cat Debutante purred loudly. "Had a good night? I know I did." Tossing her shoes off to the side, Camille grabbed her TV remote and switched it on. "Alright, O'Ryan, make me laugh!" she giggled as the antics of her favorite late-night host came on.

_"And there you have it! The dog is actually drinking milk from its owner's mouth!"_ O'Ryan guffawed as the sight led both him and Camille to laugh. Only Camille could find such juvenile humor as funny. However, her laughter was cut short as the TV suddenly changed to a news report.

"Wha-?" the socialite blinked. "Hey, c'mon! Switch it back!"

_"We apologize to any insomniacs still watching to bring you this breaking news story."_ the newscaster announced, much to Camille's disappointment. _"We have recently been informed of a dangerous escaped convict who has escaped Middleton Maximum Security Prison at precisely 12:43 local time. Sources have given us the identity of the escapee." _Camille was just about to change the channel when a picture of the criminal appeared on the screen, and that's when she suddenly gained interest.

The criminal in question was Shego.

_"Known simply as Shego, it has been reported that she was brought to the prison 6 days ago by Middleton's very own Kim Possible. Often seen with wanted criminal genius Dr. Drakken, Shego..."_ Looking for attention, Debutante tried to nuzzle her, but Camille wasn't listening, as she was too absorbed in Shego's picture.

--

_Shego... a name that meant so much to me. She represented what I wanted to be: a free spirit. The kind of person who did what she wanted when she wanted. The kind of life I couldn't have. Between acting and socializing, I was often stuck on a schedule. When your dad is the canned cat food king, you've got... uh... um... what's that word? Obligations!_

_So, what's all this have to do with my criminal career? It started one day while I was out shopping..._

"Camille! Camille Leon! Sign my poster, please?"

"Can you pose for me? Just one photo?"

"Bear my child!"

"People... People, please!" Camille calmly waved to the fans lined up behind her. "Don't worry. There's plenty of Camille Leon to go around. Take a number and sit down." she casually spoke as she entered her favorite high-priced clothing store. As usual, her cat Debutante was riding in her shoulderbag.

To Camille Leon, this was a time-honored ritual, as she gathered whatever outfits she felt looked good and made her way for the dressing room to try them on. For every outfit, she couldn't resist stepping out of the room and striking a pose for the paparazzi. They followed her everywhere, often snapping photos for the tabloids and magazines, and Camille couldn't imagine a life without them.

"That's it, boys! Take it all in!" Camille grinned as she posed for another few photos while in her new outfit. Eventually, she got bored and made her way for the front counter, clothing in hand. "All of this, please."

"Sure thing, ma'am." the cashier nodded as she rung up the clothes. "That'll be 15,300."

"No problem." Camille waved as she dug into her bag for her credit cards, only to begin sweating. "Hold on, I know they're, like, in there." Sadly, her search came up fruitless. The socialite realized that she had grabbed the wrong shoulderbag on her way out of the house, and that all her credit cards were back in her room. Finally, out of desperation, Camille went for her pocket and pulled out a single black card. "Here ya go!" The cashier took a look and raised an eyebrow.

"Ma'am. This isn't yours."

"Yeah, I know. It's Daddy's." Camille explained. "He wanted me to, like, pick up some stuff for him. I'm sure he won't mind, though. After all, he's rich." The cashier only shrugged as she swiped the card.

_One thing led to another, and soon I had blown the whole card on an extended shopping spree. Clothes, shoes, cat supplies, a facial. I never expected it to, like, be a problem._

--

_Boy, was I wrong. _

"What is THIS?!" Daddy Leon screamed as he waved what appeared to be a credit card bill in the air. Nearby, Camille was cowering on the floor. "I trust you with my card for one little errand and I find out you blew 500,000 on it?!"

"But..."

"But nothing!" Daddy continued. "I'll have you know that, because of your disregard, my user rating's gonna plummet!"

"I'm sorry, Daddy." Camille moaned, trying to sound as innocent as possible. "I swear, it won't happen again."

"Don't worry. It won't." Daddy calmly spoke. "Until you pay back my card, your allowance and credit cards will be suspended."

"WHAT?!" Camille shouted in protest. "Come on! That's not fair!"

"I'm not finished!" Daddy barked, shutting his daughter up. "In addition, given all your late-night raves and your questionable antics, I think you need an adjustment in your attitude." he added. "Therefore, in order to pay back my card, you'll be working a shift at my cat food factory. You'll work in standard wage for 10 hours a day, which I'll promptly take and put towards your debt. It'll take at least six months to reach that much, and hopefully you'll finally gain a sense of, dare I say... responsibility!" Daddy finished with a grin.

Camille merely groaned in defeat.

--

_Responsibility... a word that I absolutely HATE! Can you believe that Daddy made me risk breaking nails as I worked down in the mail room sorting letters and labeling stuff? I couldn't ditch, either, for Daddy made sure that I got to work on time. From 7 in the morning to 5 at night, I was suffering paper cuts and a bruised ego._

"Bill... bill... birthday card... bill... death threat... bill..." Camille monotonously groaned as she sorted the types of letters and placed them in the worker boxes. "This is, like, SO lame! Why couldn't I, like, get a job at the fashion store or something?" She was just about to reach for her next bag when one of the workers barged in.

"Hey, Leon! Come to the break room! Kim Possible's on TV!"

"Yeah, so what?" Camille snorted. "She beats up a few crooks and saves the world, yada yada yada. Why should I care?"

"She's fighting Shego."

No sooner had he said that name than Camille was rushing to the break room, where various employees were hooting and hollering around the small TV, which despicted Kim and Shego once again fighting to the death. Some of the workers had even begun taking bets on the fight, but Camille was oblivious to it all as she turned to one employee and asked, "What're they fighting about?"

"Shego and that blue guy she hangs with tried to rob a jewelry store for a giant diamond ring." he explained. "Honestly, why does that loser keep dragging Shego into these stupid plans? We all know _she's_ the truly dangerous one."

"Ugh, tell me about it." another employee argued. "Heck, if anyone could conquer the world, it's Shego."

Ignoring the argument, Camille began to think... and soon, an idea popped into her head. One that, done right, could solve all her financial problems in one fell swoop.

--

That night at the movie studio, a lone figure dressed in black crept through the area. She was about to make a run for a nearby fire escape when she suddenly tripped on a speed-bump and landed flat on her face.

While she was well-camoflaged, Camille Leon was hardly stealthy.

"Owwww..." she groaned as she picked herself up and ran for the fire escape. Putting her high school gymnastics to use, Camille leapt to the ladder hanging underneath and grabbed the lowest rung, after which she began to swing her legs to build momentum. After a bit, Camille managed to flip all the way up, allowing her to grab the upper rungs and climb up. Before long, she was on the roof of the studio's main office.

"Piece of cake." Camille grinned as she surveyed the owner's office from a skylight window. There, just behind the desk, was the safe, with all the studio earnings inside. "If Shego can do it, then so can I. Besides, I can, like, do a lot better than that kiss-up Blamhammer." Cracking the window open, Camille pulled some ropes from her bag and attached them to a harness, which she then put on. After securing the ropes on a nearby air conditioner, Camille made a bold leap through the window.

Sadly, Camille's less-than-stellar academic mind failed to account for the lengths of the rope needed to lower all the way down to the safe without touching the floor. The ropes being too long, Camille landed on the desk with a loud CRASH!, alerting the security guards from nearby. Oblivious, Camille quickly picked herself up and went for the safe, trying to unlock it in a futile effort.

Apparently, she failed to account for the necessity of safecracking as well, as Camille was caught red-handed by security.

--

_I was ruined. When Daddy heard that I was trying to rob the studio, he was so furious that he cut me out of the fortune for good. He arranged for all my cards to be cancelled, all my movie roles to be taken away. Daddy has his connections, believe me. I was sentenced to six months in prison, on account that the courts considered me "harmless"._

"Can I, like, have the low-fat menu?" Camille grinned as the cook in charge of the prison cafeteria grunted.

"What's there is there." he shrugged as Camille gagged at the so-called "food" spread out before her.

"Listen, pal. I deserve better than this. Do you know who I am?"

"You'll be mud if you don't move!" one of the prisoners behind her shouted. "You're holding up the line."

"Fine, I'm moving!" Camille shouted back. "Jerks!" Grabbing her tray, Camille took a seat next to a scruffy-looking lowlife.

"Hey, babe." he grinned. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

"Get lost, creep." Camille scowled.

"Yeah, it IS you, isn't it? That Leon girl?" the lowlife continued. "Only one gal who can say something like that. So, whaddya in for?"

"Attempted robbery." Camille shrugged, not particularily caring.

"Socialite life not rich enough for ya?"

"To be honest, it was kinda fun being bad." Camille grinned. "I liked the thrill."

"Too bad you stunk at it. Listen, babe." the lowlife explained. "If you're gonna be a crook, you need a gimmick."

"Gimmick?"

"A style. A theme. Your own unique way of being bad." he explained. "Want my advice? You'd be perfect for the covert stuff. Things like disguises and acting and such. I've seen you act, and I'll bet no one would recognize you if you were all dressed up."

--

_I eventually got out, and I was pretty much on my own now. No big deal, for I had a new hobby in life. I was gonna be a thief. I came to enjoy the action, the freedom, the total disregard for responsibility. Over the course of my prison stay, I had looked into different styles of being a thief. Finally, I had a style I liked, which I put to good use for a few weeks..._

"C'mon... where is it?" Camille sweated as the alarms went off all around her. She was currently taking refuge in a closet as she dug through a large duffel bag, filled with jewelry and various outfits filched from wherever she could get them. "Ah! Here it is!"

Camille had managed to assemble a security guard outfit for a local jewelry store, which she was now currently looking for. Successfully knocking out a guard and stealing her keys was the tricky part, since Camille wasn't much of a fighter. Nonetheless, she succeeded and had just finished looting the cases, and now was getting ready for her escape. Adjusting the buttons and fixing her hat and wig, Camille was unrecognizable.

"And now to bail." Camille grinned as she grabbed her bag and quickly ran out of the closet and into the store basement, where she then approached an small open window next to the street and pushed the bag through it. Unlike her failed studio heist, Camille actually took time to plan out her strategies prior to execution. She had been secretly scoping out the small downtown jewery store for several days looking for the best way to get in and out easily. Now, her goods were safely out next to a dumpster in the nearby alley, where she could pick it up later once the heat was off. Camille was just about to leave herself when...

"HALT!" a security guard yelled out from behind her. "Hands in the air!"

"Don't shoot." Camille called back, using her acting skills to hide her tone of voice.

"Elaine? That you?" the guard blinked.

"Yeah, it's me." Camille continued, her back still to the guard. "Chased the thief down here, but he overpowered me and got away."

"Well, we haven't seen him..." the guard answered, a suspicious tone in his voice. "Nope, didn't see... him." At that, Camille silently gulped, fearing that her cover was blown. It looked like the end for her, or at least until a second guard barged in.

"Hey Joe. I found Elaine. She was tied up in the closet."

"What?" Joe blinked. That was all the opening Camille needed, as she suddenly pulled into a backflip and valted into the guards, which sent them crashing to the floor in a heap. Not even bothering to look back, Camille ran full-speed up the stairs, out the store's back door, and into the alley. She barely had enough time to grab her bag when the sound of police sirens began to blare from down the street.

"Crud." Knowing that she'd never escape with the entire bag, Camille quickly dug into it and pulled out a handful of gems and a few outfits before tossing it into the dumpster, after which she climbed on top of it and used it to reach the fire escape above. By the time the police showed up in the alley, Camille was safely on the rooftops, where she could only watch as the cops opened the dumpster and took the bag out. "Well, at least I remembered the gloves this time." Camille groaned, knowing that fingerprints were the last thing she wanted to leave.

She still had a reputation, soiled as it were, and she didn't want to lose it.

--

That night, Camille stayed at a motel. It was a very run-down establishment, not at all like the high-quality hotels she once occupied. As she flopped down on the bed and gave a sleeping Debutante a scratch behind the ears, the TV was going on about the recent robbery.

_"Police have yet to comment on the circumstances, but local security have verified that it was an inside job. According to their statements, an unidentified young woman in the guise of a guard infiltrated the store, robbed the cases of valuable jewelry, and escaped by overpowering them. From these statements-" click_

"Peh, they've got nothing on me." Camille grinned as she sorted through her earnings, eventually pulling out an impressive-looking ruby. "This one'll be great for a personal souvenir. Still..." she winced. "That was a little too close." Pulling out a small hand-mirror, Camille took a look at her face. A face that was all-too-recognizable thanks to the tabloids and photos. "Maybe a face-lift would help. Something to make me less recognized." With that, she reached for her phone book and began to flip through the pages.

Camille was no stranger to plastic surgery, as she had several nips and tucks done on her over the years. Not surprisingly, she was well-aquainted with many of Beverly Hills' finest surgeons. However, she was looking for a specific one, eventually eying a scrap of tissue near the back of the book.

DR. CHILES BEAUFOX

BY APPOINTMENT ONLY

(1-800-NEWFACE)

GO WITH A SMILE

Camille remembered this one. She had overheard a couple punks mutter about him while in prison, and she was barely able to write down the info due to lack of paper. "Sounds like he might be worth a shot." Camille grinned as she picked up the phone.

--

_A few days later, I was ready to meet my destiny... or something like it._

"This... is the place?" Camille gazed as she saw the rather plain office of Dr. Beaufox from outside. "I was expecting something a little more... uh... run-down?" Shrugging, she went inside and walked up to the receptionist, who definitely looked like she had better things to do than pay attention to a former socialite-turned-wannabe thief.

"May I help you?" the bored receptionist groaned.

"Hi, I've got a 2:30 with Beaufox." Camille explained. "It's about..."

"If you gotta go..." the receptionist dully spoke. Camille was taken aback as she repeated. "If you gotta go..." Upon realizing that this was the cue for the password, Camille began to try and remember what she had to say.

"Um... Go... to the bathroom?" Camille grinned innocently. The receptionist remained grim-faced. "No, I mean... Go with the, uh, flow?" Shaking her head, the receptionist was just about to reach for her phone when Camille suddenly remembered. "I got it! Go with a smile!" she declared in triumph. Giving off a slight grin, the receptionist put down the phone and instead reached for the intercom.

"Doctor, you have a customer." she calmly spoke as Camille took a nearby seat. After several minutes, another door opened and revealed Dr. Beaufox.

"Leon, Camille." he casually called out, noticing that Camille was the only one in the room. Soon, Camille was escorted into his office. As she looked around, she saw some rather interesting pictures of various criminal lowlifes showing off their new bodies. She knew that this wasn't any old plastic surgeon. From what she had heard, Dr. Beaufox catered specifically to the criminal lifestyle.

"So, how can I do you today?" Beaufox greeted as he sized up Camille. "Hmm. All skin and bones, I see. If you ask me, you need some meat on those bones. May I suggest a reverse lipo?"

"Gain weight? Ugh, no way!" Camille protested.

"Well, then... how 'bout something a little more... y'know..." Beaufox hinted, nodding towards Camille's rather flat chest. "... inflating?"

"Sorry, but I'd rather keep them real." Camille explained. "I was hoping for a face job. Something to make me a little less... um... uh... recognized."

"I see..." Beaufox _tsk_ed as he jotted some notes on a clipboard, then looked up in realization. "So, you're sayin' you're THE Camille Leon?"

"Uh... yeah." the ex-socialite blinked.

"Well, why're you here then?" the doctor asked. "I mean, I heard you got six months for that studio break-in, but that's more of a first-time deal. No real need to change your face over a first offense."

"But... I thought you worked on criminals." Camille complained. "I mean, I'm a criminal, right?" Sighing, Beaufox turned her head to the wall of portraits.

"See those guys? See those girls?" Beaufox pointed out. "They come to me from all over the world. Career criminals, every one of them. They ask for a nip, a tuck, a fold. Some ask me to fix their scars, others simply want me to add a few. Make them look tougher and all that. Me, I like the challenge. Any old bum can do a lipo on a supermodel, but I'm the only one who can literally pump a criminal full of fat just 'cause he wants a more imposing appearence. I don't waste my time with ordinary folk like you, at least not since those other surgeons took my license."

"Took your license?" Camille was now officially curious. "Why'd they do that?"

"Simpleminded bums. Said I was unethical to suggest nanomorphing. Bah! They're afraid I'd only put them out of business. But what am I sayin'? You don't need to know."

"Uh... what's nanny morphine?" Camille asked. Shaking his head, Beaufox switched on a TV, showing a video of a morbidly obese woman.

"Experimental nanomachines gets injected into the body. It uplinks to the brain and allows one to control them at the molecular level. Basically..." he nodded as the woman suddenly shrunk all her excess body mass into herself. In mere seconds, she was as skinny and beautiful as any supermodel. "... you control your body appearence at will. Hair, body weight, gender, even clothing, though that would mean you'd always have to be naked."

"Ooooooo... gimme, gimme, gimme." Camille was barely able to comprehend Beaufox's explanation, but she did catch the key point of the demo. Being able to alter her appearence at will was definitely more convenient than always lugging disguises everywhere, and she knew right away that she wanted it.

"But I daren't do it. Still too many bugs. Too many risks." Beaufox casually shrugged. "Next year, maybe."

"Aw, come on!" Camille whined.

"No, no, no, I can't. The last thing I want is more heat bearing down on me. I'm already in enough trouble with the law as it is."

But I want it NOW!" Camille continued to protest. Having grown up spoiled rich, she was used to getting her way, regardless of everyone else.

"Sorry, Leon, but, let's face it, there's just not much of you for the nanomachines to be injected into." Beaufox pointed out. "You'd barely be able to morph a pair of panties over you. I'd prefer that you first gain more mass before-urk!" Beaufox was cut off as Camille grabbed him by the collar.

"I... want... it... NOW!" she slowly repeated, trying to sound mean. Sweating, Beaufox tried to think.

"Well..." he began. "Perhaps if you were injected with more nanomachines than normal to compensate, you might gain the extra mass needed to use their full capabilities."

"Don't care. Just do it!" Camille ordered, releasing Beaufox. "I'll pay, like, top dollar for it and everything! Just DO IT!" Seeing as how he couldn't talk her out of it, Beaufox only sighed as he went to his desk and prepared a liability waiver.

--

That night at the office, Camille was lying on the surgery bed, strapped snugly. Her clothes on a chair nearby, the only thing protecting her decency was a white hospital sheet as it laid upon her skinny frame.

"I'll have you know, Miss Leon, that I've never actually done this on a patient before. You're the first one..." the doctor pointed out.

"Fine, fine." she mumbled.

"Before we start, I need to warn you that this is a very risky procedure." Beaufox spoke as he prepared his tools for surgery. "Should the nanomachines malfunction, I can't guarantee what would happen. You'll have to be careful."

"Don't bug me with all the boring stuff. Just lay it on me!" Camille ordered. Knowing that there was no point in stalling any longer, Beaufox strapped on his surgical mask and applied an anesthetic mask to Camille. As she slowly succumbed to the gas, Camille thought of what this would mean to her and her fledgling criminal career.

_With this... I'll be the greatest criminal ever..._ Camille hazily thought. _If only... Shego... could see me... now..._

--

The next morning, Camille found herself staring in a full-length mirror, gazing at her body.

"As you can see, this'll destroy any need for new clothing." Beaufox explained. Camille's clothes were still on the chair, while an identical version of her usual blue-and-white ensemble was now worn upon her body. Camille couldn't help but continuously rub the "fabric" between her fingers. "So advanced, that the nanomachines can even mimic fabric textures. No one'll be the wiser."

"Spankin'!" Camille squealed happily.

"Now, if you're done ogling yourself, there's the matter of the bill." Beaufox continued. Upon hearing those words, Camille reached for her "pocket" out of instinct, but found nothing in there. Sighing, Camille grabbed her original pants and pulled out a check from the pocket. Beaufox gazed at the check... and grimaced. "Sorry, Miss Leon, but this won't quite cover it."

"In that case..." Camille went into the other pocket and pulled out the ruby from her recent jewelry store heist. "Good enough for ya?"

"Good enough." Beaufox grinned as he swiped the gem for himself. "Good luck out there with your career, kiddo." he waved as Camille grabbed her things and left the office, a spring in her step. As she passed by the receptionist, Camille subconsciously morphed her appearence into that of the unwitting lady. This was surprising enough to make the normally bored woman look up.

"Uh... hello?" she asked, causing Camille to turn her head.

"Hi." Camille greeted back as she walked out into the hall, unaware of her current appearence. As she stepped into the elevator, however, she caught her reflection on the security mirror and laughed as she realized what the deal was. Shifting back to her normal look, Camille could only grin in anticipation.

"Look out, world! Here comes the new and improved Camille Leon!"

--

"And from there, the rest is, like, history." Camille finished. "I got a few laughs, picked on a few old rivals like Britina, and would've gone even further if not for that lame-o Kim Possible. Of course, I got to meet my idol herself while in the joint, and Shego was, like, kind enough to help me get more established as a thief, so I have her to thank. And, of course, all the little people, though it strikes me as odd that I don't know any midgets." With that, Camille stood before her riveted audience...

_Very_ riveted, indeed, as they were all asleep out of boredom. Camille only sighed as the stagehand led her off the podium.

"Someday, I'll get some respect." Camille shrugged. "Someday..."

Jack Hench was still shaking the sleep that had claimed him as he made his way back to the podium. "Well folks, a real celebrity story all right. But next in our list of presenters... Motor Ed!"


	7. Motor Ed

**Villain's Convention - Chapter 7 - Motor Ed by Whitem**

Motor Ed walked up onto the stage in front of all of the assemb

Motor Ed walked up onto the stage in front of all of the assembled villains, and adjusted the microphone stand to his height, setting off a feedback squeal that made everybody cringe.

"Hey there everybody… in case some of you don't know who I am… I'm Motor Ed. So you want to hear my story… Seriously?

"Well, it all started when I was just a kid about 15 years old. Believe it or not, I weighed all of 98 pounds… seriously, I did! And that was soaking wet with rocks in my pockets. But seriously… here's how it all went down.

"I had just made an escape from my Mom's house. She was just a bit upset at me for tricking out her toaster. What? Don't look at me that way… Seriously! I tweaked it so that it would toast both sides perfectly in only 10 seconds flat. Oh, and I painted it Candy Apple Red and accessorized it with some orange flames. That toaster rocked heavy!"

The large mulletted man stepped back from the microphone and performed his signature air guitar, accompanied by a howl that could only be characterized as a bit immature. But no one really seemed to pay much mind, and then Motor Ed stepped back to the microphone.

"But seriously… I was sitting in a dive of a diner somewhere near MIST College working on my 'List of Things to do Before I Croak', when in walked a couple of older Dudes. One was dressed in a shirt and tie, and the other was dressed like a Military kind of guy, but 'not-quite' military…"

…x x x x…

Young Edward Bartholemew Lipsky was hunched over the table as he sat in his booth, scribbling something on a piece of paper. Next to the paper was half a soda with a very chewed-up straw stuck in it.

He started to mumble…

"Let's see… Number one, I want to ride a motorcycle on top of the Great Wall of China… Number Two, I want to cruise cross-country in a sweet ride with a hot babe at my side… Number three, I want to build the most badical walker-robot ever… And number four, let's see…"

The young boy tapped his pencil on his lower lip while he sat back, thinking about what else he could add to his list.

"Number four is going to be that I want to turn the world into one giant scrap yard! Yeah, that's it!"

His voice rose at his exclamation when the young man saw two individuals walk into the diner. As soon as he saw them, Edward quickly ducked down into his booth, as one of the guys who walked in wore a dark colored military-style jacket. The other guy looked like a dweeb of the most haneous kind, and both sat down at a table not too far from where the young man sat.

He was about to sit back up when young Edward heard the two men start to talk.

"So, James… It's good to see you again. The last I saw you was at High School Graduation."

"Yeah Steve, sorry about that. After receiving the Valedictorian for our class, the college apps came pouring in and I was swamped with figuring out which college I wanted to go to. You went off to ROTC, and I guess we just got a bit caught up in everything."

"So did you have any time to do what both of us had promised ourselves?"

James breathed out hard. "No Steve, I haven't."

"Well I have, and mine is sitting out in the parking lot right now."

"You don't mean… the one we walked passed before coming in here?" James was getting a bit excited as it seemed that his old high school buddy was able to keep his side of their promise and purchase his dream car.

"Yup…" Steve said, puffing out his barrel chest, and continued with obvious pride in his vehicle. "A 1975 Firebird with the 400 engine, which is balanced and blueprinted with blower, and heavy-duty transmission." He then saw his friend deflate a bit when he finished.

"So what did you end up with?"

James breathed out, and sunk even further into his seat, mumbling his answer. "A rrth cooop."

"I'm sorry guy, I didn't hear you." Steve prompted his friend, and James then spoke up.

"A Roth SL Coup."

"Oh man Jimmie… I'm sorry…"

…x x x x…

Young Ed Lipsky stayed hunched in his booth hearing both men talk, but he wasn't listening anymore. As soon as he heard "1975 Firebird 400", his mind shut everything else out as he thought about how he could get that car.

_Oh mannn…_ He thought. _If I could jack this car, I could so then get any chick I wanted, and I could start working on my list! I gotta get that car… But how…_

Then he heard the two men speaking again.

"We could go out and look at it if you want? I left it un-locked."

"Nah… Let's get something to eat first. I haven't eaten since my Principles of Micro Dynamic Energies class."

"Now that's a mouthful." Steve said, and both started to laugh, not seeing a young skinny blond kid leaving the diner.

…x x x x…

Young Ed Lipsky had never really stolen a car before, but he certainly knew what had to be done. His father had showed him at a young age how easy it was to hot-wire most vehicles before he had died.

After a quick look around the parking lot and seeing no one around, Ed opened the door of the black Firebird, and slipped into the seat. He reached under the dash, and was able to easily find the wire bundle coming from the steering column. He yanked at it to pull it down, and sure enough, there were the two wires he needed to start the car.

Before connecting the now bared wires to start the engine, Ed said to himself, "For you Dad…"

In less than 30 seconds, Ed Lipsky had stolen his first car, and was spraying gravel around the parking lot as the two guys who had been in the diner came out and was yelling at him to stop.

…x x x x…

At about 12:35 pm Rocky Mountain Time, young rookie cop Patrick Hobble was sitting behind a bill-board, ready to track anyone who came by with this new-fangled thing called a Radar Gun. It would tell him how fast a car was traveling so he could then pick up anyone who might be speeding.

The way he was parked next to the large sign, Officer Hobble couldn't see if a car was approaching from the South. He was raising a hot cup of coffee to his lips when a black car rushed by him so fast he almost dropped the hot liquid right in his lap. Cursing, Officer Hobble quickly picked up and aimed the Radar gun, and the vehicle's speed was displayed on the back.

"Holy…! 110! OK punk… you're going down."

Flipping his lights and siren on, Office Hobble pulled onto the black-top and while he accelerated, he keyed his CB radio.

"Dispatch, this is Officer Hobble reporting… I have a North-bound on Kepler Road that passed me doing about 110, according to my radar gun. I am in pursuit."

"Roger Officer Hobble…" A pleasant female voice said from the speaker. "Do you require assistance?"

"Not at this time Dispatch. I will call back after I have the perp stopped. Hobble out."

Officer Hobble pressed his accelerator all the way to the floor, and his speed climbed as he started to close the distance between him and the black sports car. His own speedometer climbed almost to 120, and silently the young rookie was glad that this stretch of Kepler road was about 10 miles long, and very straight.

Finally he was close enough to read the license plate, and he called in the number. It didn't take long for Dispatch to call back and tell him that the car was reported stolen about 15 minutes ago.

He stayed about 10 feet back from the vehicle for about 5 minutes when the car finally started to slow down. He rolled down his window and could easily tell from the sound of the car that it was starting to run out of gas.

As he rolled his window back up with a smile, the black Firebird finally rolled to a stop on the side of the road, and Officer Hobble opened his door to step out. Immediately he heard very loud music coming from the car.

Slowly he walked up to the side of the car, and looked in the side window. He was shocked to see a skinny blond boy, not much more than 15, bobbing his head to the music that he could hear outside the vehicle, even with all the windows up.

Officer Hobble tapped on the window with his baton, surprising the boy. The window rolled down, and the young boy yelled at almost the top of his lungs to be heard.

"Wait until this song is over… seriously!"

Taken back a bit at the boy's brazenness, Officer Hobble squared his shoulders and yelled at the young driver. "Step out of the vehicle, now!"

The music was turned down, but just a little, and again the boy yelled back. "Dude! Can't you wait until this song is over? I mean c'mon! It's Led Zepplin for cryin' out loud!"

Not to be deterred, Office Hobble repeated himself. "I said, step out of the vehicle!" He placed his hand on his side-arm, but he didn't draw. The motion wasn't lost on the young driver, and he turned the music off.

"Dude… chill out!" The kid said, opened the car door, and slowly stepped out with his hands raised over his head.

Officer Hobble took hold of one wrist, pulled the arm down, and at the same time spun the young kid around and pushed him into the side of the car. He then took hold of the other wrist, and pulled it also behind his back, and placed the cuffs on his skinny wrists.

"Do you know how fast you were going?" Officer Hobble said into the ear of the boy.

"110?" The boy said, making Officer Hobble blink, as he expected a lie.

"Actually, before you ran out of gas, my speed was 120."

"Seriously? Way cool! That's the fastest I've ever gone! I am so stoked!"

Officer Hobble then placed the young boy in his back seat and let his Dispatch know he had apprehended the driver.

…x x x x…

About an hour later, young Edward Lipsky lay on his bunk in the Middleton Police Department's holding cell thinking about his list. An older gentleman with a leather vest and long scrungy dark gray hair was hunched over his side. Suddenly with a start he sat up yelling out, "That's it! Monster trucks! Yeah!"

"Lay back down or else I'm not going to get this right." The man growled. "Now you're sure this is all you want for your tattoo?"

"Yeah… Seriously. It was my Pop's name."

"And why do you keep saying the word 'Seriously'"? The gruff man asked.

"I just started to use it today, and I thought it sounded cool… Don't you think? Seriously?"

The man just harumphed and finished the tattoo on the young boy's arm that simply said, "ED".

The crowd was quiet as Motor Ed finished and Jack Hench was quick to get back to the podium. "Riviting stuff, isn't this folks. But let's move on to our next presenter, a man I'm sure everyone here admires... Senor Senior Senior!"


	8. Senor Senior Senior

Senior's Story

The old man and his son belong to Disney. The other characters are mine.

**Villain's Convention - Chapter 8 - Senor Senior Senior by Yankee Bard**

In every life there are defining moments that shape who we are or who we shall become. This is the brief story of a life changed by man's inhumanity and willingness of many to turn their heads while evil flourishes.

"You ask how a wealthy aristocrat became an internationally wanted criminal, living in isolation on a private island. Let me tell you the story. Once I had nothing. I could find no focus for my life. It seemed I had no friends. My parents tried to make me see otherwise, but to no avail."

"Then I met Victoria. She was all I was not. Her family had a small but successful importing business. I took a job with her father in his warehouse. Ordinarily I would have stayed only a few weeks, then taken my pay and set out on another search for fulfillment. But this time I stayed."

"Being there became more than a job for me. I looked for things I could do better; things that would make Victoria notice me. Soon she and I found ourselves working closely together as the business grew. Still, she had her friends and I had no one. How it hurt when I saw her with them and not me. But she was Victoria, the most desirable young woman in our small town, and who was I? I was a nobody who worked in her father's warehouse."

"But then something strange happened. At first, she just came to me with ideas. I always encouraged her, even if I sometimes thought the idea had no merit. When that happened I tried to make her see how she could make her idea work. Soon we were spending hours together working on many different things. It was then I discovered the secret of success. I could sense opportunity. She had the ideas, I made them reality, and if they failed, I laughed it off and took responsibility."

"We began spending more time together. I think young people today call it 'hanging out.' Our usual discussions centered on our work together, but sometimes she would give me a peek at her private life. She had many young men seeking her favors. Sometimes she would talk to me about them. This one was handsome, that one was rich, another came from one of the best families, but (and there was always a but) each lacked something she felt she needed. I quickly learned not to speak ill of her suitors as that merely caused her to defend them. For myself, I hid the feelings I held for her, and made silly jokes about the men in her life."

"For the next few years we worked together, helping her father build the business. I was given a share of the profits. I invested the money well and soon was a wealthy man in my own right. But still I did not feel I was good enough for Victoria."

"Her parents married late in life. Her father was over 70 and not well. I was summoned to his bedside where I found him very weak, not long for this world. I was surprised by the conversation."

"Have you asked her yet?" he inquired."

"Asked her what?" I said to him."

"Asked her to marry you, you fool. She's been waiting all this time. I would see the two of you wed before my time is up," her father replied."

"It took me a few days to find the courage to ask her. We were married a month later, just a week before her father died."

"Our son came along a year later. The happiness of the event was dampened when the doctors said there would be no more children. Victoria doted on our son and continued to work in our business, but somehow she felt incomplete. She had a cousin who was a priest working in one of those African countries ravaged by famine and religious strife. She was excited by the opportunity to help with his mission. At first she worked in our home town, raising money and arranging gifts of food, clothing and supplies for her cousin's African school. Eventually she was making several trips a year to visit the school, working with her cousin and the nuns plan for the future."

"On her last trip, a militia group tolerated by the government of that foul place descended on the school during the night. Crying 'death to the infidels' they murdered the priests and the seminarians. They had other plans for the women, but eventually they were murdered as well. Those in our homeland were outraged. Our government loudly condemned the incident both at home and in the United Nations, but nothing was done."

"You must understand how I felt. I was raised to believe in a loving God and the ultimate triumph of good over evil. How could it be, I asked, that God would allow masked fanatics to murder such a woman as my Victoria while chanting to the glory of His name?"

"First I went to my government. Many there owed me favors. I asked for justice only to be told they could do nothing. I traveled the world asking for justice wherever I could find someone to listen. The story was the same. You must seek justice where the crime occurred. The rulers of that country laughed at me!"

"So I sought out those with skills to aid me. I called in favors all over the world to find where the murderous animals who killed my Victoria were hiding. With my wealth and influence I was able to obtain the equipment I needed. I found brave men to help me, training them as well as any general ever trained an army."

"Finally the day came. One of my contacts found their hidden camp. Just before dawn we landed nearby, surrounded the camp and moved in. I intended merely to capture these animals and bring them to justice, but their leader taunted me."

"Her death was the will of God; vengeance for the evil you and those like you bring into the world," he shouted as he mocked me."

"I could no longer control myself. I took him by the throat, looked into his eyes, and told him "You are wrong. This is the will of God and I am his Angel of Death." I held him that way long after his eyes could no longer see."

Through the entire story thus far Senior had maintained the same calm, controlled voice he always used. Now he paused for a minute and took a deep breath as if to restore his composure before continuing.

"A single act of vengeance changed my life. The rulers of that vile land where Victoria's killers hid branded me a criminal. I found myself with neither friends nor respect, much as in the beginning. My government abandoned me. Should I return home, I was warned; I would be arrested as a criminal and tried for the murder of my Victoria's murderer. Then they tried to seize my assets, but I had planned well. They could not touch anything. My son and I sought refuge on our private island beyond the reach of any government. There I became bored and my son grew into a self indulgent playboy."

"One boring day followed another. I continued to monitor my business interests, but the thrill of the game was gone. I had more than enough money for several lifetimes, even considering the extravagance of my son. Day followed boring day until Junior caught the attention of Kim Possible. After listening to Ron Stoppable, I came up with the perfect way to take my revenge. My thoughts and plans turned to world domination. I would become a super villain."

The crowd was silent as Senior finished, but not for the same reasons they had been with other presenters. None had ever seen this side of the polite, kindly man who seemed to so many to be in this to relieve the boredom of his life. Now, they were all seeing an entirely new side to this man.

Jack Hench was clapping as he moved towards the podium, surprised as well that he knew little of this about his best customer. "We have one more presenter to go for the night. Please welcome Gemini to the stage!"


	9. Gemini

**Villain's Convention - Chapter 9 - Gemini by Zaratan**

Gemini took to the stage regally, glancing back over the crowd only briefly to check on the status of Pepe, who was happily enjoying some of the convention snacks. Arriving at the podium, he looked out over the crowd and smiled, knowing he had this in the bag.

"Fellow villains, my story is one that will put all of you to shame. You see, I got my start in villainy at a... very young age."

_It was warm where he was, and he enjoyed it, but he could already feel his time at an end here. Already the warm fluid surrounding him was draining away, and there was nothing he could do about it. He looked over at his sister, who was smiling at him, as if she had some great secret, or laughing at him as he fought to keep that wonderful fluid from escaping._

_That was when he saw where that fluid was going. His sister just watched with a knowing smile and turned around so that she could follow along with it. That made him mad. There was no way his sister was going to do something before him. With a furious kick, he knocked her aside and dove for the hole. He would be first, it was his due, and nothing would stop him from..._

"Ach, ya cannae be serious."

Gemini blinked as the words cut into the warm recollection. "I beg your pardon."

Duff Killigan was on his feet, shaking his head. "Ya cannae tell us that yer first villainous act was ta be born first, can ya? There's na way ya coulda remember something like that."

Gemini glared back down into the crowd. "I assure you you Scottish lump that..."

Jack Hench quickly moved up to beside Gemini, patting him on the shoulder. "Now now gentlemen, I'm sure we don't have to resort to violence to solve this. But Gemini... perhaps you could relate some OTHER great villainous tale from your illustrious start."

Gemini stared back at Killigan for a moment before his expression softened. "Yes, of course. I'll tell the story of how I began WWEE."

_"You're going to be a what?"_

_"I'm going to be an agent of Global Justice."_

Rapid barking stalled Gemini's story as he turned his attention to his little dog. "I am so sorry Pepe, but I have to say that... cursed name for the story to work. Don't worry, Daddy won't be too long. Now where was I?"

_Sheldon looked across the table at his sister strangely. "I've never heard of this... Global Justice."_

_Betty just smirked at her brother. "It's this really cool agency through the United Nations. The focus is on assisting other nations, stopping international threats, that sort of thing. They'll even pay for my college and everything, now that I'm graduating."_

_Sheldon just looked disgusted. "How did you get offered that? Why didn't they offer me a position?"_

_Betty's smirk grew wider. "Let's see, I had the top grades in my classes, I won several martial arts tournaments and... oh yeah...because I'm better than you."_

_Sheldon rose to his feet, standing imperiously over his sister. "Better? I... I am the older brother and if they were to offer that to anyone, it should have been me!"_

_"Sheldon, sit down and eat your dinner." Mrs. Director walked back in from the kitchen, frowning at her children. "Betty, stop teasing your brother. It's nice that you got into this... Global Justice. And Sheldon, I'm sure something just as nice will happen for you as well."_

_"But... but..."_

_Mrs. Director frowned at her son, and he slowly sank back into his seat. "Now, let's eat dinner while it's still warm, shall we. Betty, go on Dear."_

"Again, my blasted sister refused to give me the respect I deserved as the older brother, and as usual, my mother took her side. That position should have been mine!" Gemini was clutching the podium, the wood chipping under the pressure of his mechanical hand. "The weeks went by, and she became more and more involved in what should have been mine. Nothing I did could get me that precious spot. So, I set out to remove her from it so it could be mine."

_Sheldon smiled as he watched the team approaching. All it had taken was the hint of some international terrorist hiding out in this warehouse to draw them in. He knew his sister's schedule, he knew what team would be on rotation, and planned it out to the finest detail. Once they entered the building, the doors would seal, and the trap would be sprung. It wasn't lethal, but it would be enough to prove to those fools who had ignored him in favour of his little sister that she couldn't cut it, not like he could._

_With all the cameras, he could watch them from the safety of his command center... really his bedroom... but it was his. As soon as the last one was through, he hit the button to lock them in and then sat back to watch the confusion._

_But his delight quickly turned to frustration. It was Betty who warned her team, and when the traps started, it was Betty who weaved, dodged and flipped through the maze. He rest of her team was pinned, but Betty seemed to dance through it all. Then, she found the power junction box, and with one of her Global Justice devices, she destroyed it, and with it, all his carefully traps and plans._

_Sheldon could not believe his eyes. He wished now that he had put sound in with the cameras so that he could hear, but the back-patting and congratulations were obvious. What should have been his great moment to knock his sister down had failed. Of course, he didn't realize just how badly he had failed until Betty got home that night._

_Betty rushed through the door, the biggest smile on her face. "I got a commendation from the Director of Global Justice today."_

_Sheldon scowled but his mother was smiling brightly at the news. "That's wonderful dear. What happened?"_

_Betty dropped into her seat, her mother already putting her plate in front of her. "We were going into this warehouse owned by this huge criminal when we must have set off some traps or something. I dodged everything they threw at me and saved the whole team. The Director gave me the commendation and said I would be getting a chance to lead a team next week. Two months and I'm already leading a team!"_

_"That's wonderful. Sheldon, don't you think that's wonderful?"_

_Sheldon looked up to glare at his sister. "Yes, just wonderful sis."_

_And the night just got worse from there. Betty didn't stop. Not once. On and on about the mission and Global Justice and her heroics. It made him sick. Now it wasn't just about his sister anymore. Global Justice needed to be punished as well. They hadn't even considered him and now they were rewarding his sister. No, Sheldon knew that they ALL needed to be punished._

_Problem was, Global Justice was big. There was no way he himself could destroy them both by himself. He'd need help. He'd need people to follow HIS orders and put the hurt to both his sister and Global Justice. He needed his OWN organization. As he glared hatefully across the dinner table, the beginnings of a plan came to mind, and for the first time since his traps had been blown, Sheldon smiled._

_"_Over the next few years, I slowly built up my organization into the evil powerhouse it is now. Fully half of Global Justice's resources are tied up in combating my minions around the world and soon... soon I will finally destroy my little sister and her precious organization!" Gemini paused as he waited for the applause, frowning when none was forthcoming from the crowd.

There was one set of hands clapping though and those belonged to Jack Hench. "Thank you Gemini for that compelling story." Stepping up to the podium, Gemini waved his hands over the crowd. Now folks, it's up to all of you in the audience. You get to vote on the most compelling, the most interesting story you've heard here today. So mark your ballots and vote now! And all of you will be notified as the results of the vote before the convention is complete. Thank you!"


	10. Yono the Destroyer

"Power tends to corrupt; absolute power corrupts absolutely

**Villain's Convention - Chapter 10 - Yono the Destroyer by JAKT**

**Convention's End?**

Right now, Jack Hench was a very happy man as he headed off for bed. He had amassed a small fortune already with his new and improved annual villain's convention and things couldn't be going better. His net profit after taxes had hit an even million so far. 'For two out of three days and the amount of work I've put into it, not to bad,' he thought. Plus everyone's one was betting heavily and waiting with baited breath to see who would win his new contest at his quarterly convention. The "Villain's first foray into evil" story telling event was definitely adding a lot dollars to the bottom line. He was making a killing booking odds on favorites too.

Things were going very, very well, even better than he had hoped for, so why did he have a nagging feeling at the back of his neck. 'Must be one of those blasted Artic Winter Storm Fronts,' he thought to himself, dismissing the notion that anything was wrong.

Tonight, he decided, would be the first peaceful night's sleep he'd had since the Lorwardian's failed invasion. And he was going to make sure it was, as he downed a warm glass of milk, put on his silk pajama's and climbed into his warm and cozy California King Bed. But no sooner did Jack's mind find dreamland than a weird, sick and wrong nightmare commenced.

He thought he had awakened to a room full of darkness and moonlight and moving shadows, for the moon was racing through the sky and everything on the earth below was endued with a restless life in the dark. And something…some nameless, unthinkable thing…was coiled about his throat…something like a soft tail, furry and warm. It lay loose and light about his neck…and it was moving gently, very gently, with a soft, caressing pressure that sent thrills of terror through every nerve and fiber of his being, a perilous foreboding, deeper than any fear he had ever known. The warm softness caressed the very roots of his soul with hopelessness. The absolute feeling left him weak, and yet he knew that this was only a dream…a dream of something yet to come.

And with that knowledge a horror broke upon him, turning the dream into a revulsion of hatefulness most foul. He tried to lift his hands and tear the dream monstrosity from his throat. Tried but failed…once…twice…thrice. And at the fourth attempt when he succeeded a cold shock went over his entire body and he found he could not stir. His body lay stony as marble beneath the blankets, a living marble that shuddered with dread through every rigid vein.

The next morning, when the bright sunlight shining through his window awakened him, Jack lay for a while trying to remember. The dream had been more vivid than reality, but he couldn't quite recall all of it…only that it had been more horrible than anything else he had ever experienced in his life.

-- xx --

The last day of the convention past away uneventfully and Jack breathed a sigh of relief as it came to a close. No major disastrous events had happened after the awards were given out. Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable hadn't even shown up to make a mess of things and everyone was leaving on pretty good terms. Perhaps the dream he'd had last night was just about Monkey Fist's last unpaid HenchCo bill or about a certain blue, flower tendriled villain and his ever bouncing checks. Of course, that had to be it. Non payment for goods and services always seemed to strangle him like a rope around his neck.

Getting up from his desk, Jack walked over to the one way glass mirror that made up the back wall of this lounge office. It was a sheer piece of architectural genius and beauty as it overlooked the entire indoor Convention Center facilities of the HenchCo Corporate Complex. He sighed at the sight as he looked down into the area that was three floors below him, the view was still as magnificent and breathtaking as the first time he'd looked out. As his eyes focused on his remaining guests, he thought to himself that there was only the clean up and getting rid of the 15 plus remaining stragglers. Villains that always hung around looking for some leftovers, handouts or just finishing business.

Off to one side of the bar area he viewed DNAmy and Adrena Lynn seated at a table with a solid stone statue of Lord Monkey Fist. Why they were fascinated with the stone figure was beyond him. Of course anyone who paid to treat a statue of Monkey Fist like royalty the way that Amy had during the convention was well worth the effort it cost. That kind of money always went to the bottom line and in the mid five figures he and his staff didn't mind catering to cold unfeeling stone.

Nearby sat Falsetto Jones and Shego having a drink of the finest hotel stock. There was also Jones' Wolfhound Mandy that appeared to be relaxing between the pair. He had really scored with Jones as this was his first time to come to one of the conventions. Five grand for a five minute favor. That was one of his better deals. And of course, with Jones, money was no object when it came to the finer things he requested and Jack was always happy to serve a paying cash customer, especially at a 75 percent markup.

Then there were always the deadbeats, like the young ninja from Japan. What was his name? Fuku, something. Of course there was always Drakken and Duff Killigan. They were always looking for the freebies or something to steal. He remembered Killigan had made off with three cases of exploding golf balls after last quarter's event and smiled. Duff had quite the shock when he discovered they were real golf balls. "Human" magazine reported that Kim Possible never had an easier "save the world" mission.

Jack paused for a moment and now thought about the two late arrivals that had shown up earlier today. He hated not having more details on his guests even when their reputations preceded them, but something about this pair made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and salute much less sent shivers that ran up and down his spine like a freight train. He had the feeling that he knew them from someplace before but he also knew that he had never met the pair. Dismissing the thought, he turned from his mirrored window and sat back down behind his desk counting his final profits.

-- xx --

"Pass the umeshu, foreigner," said Fukushima persuasively to the stranger.

"It is not mine to give and it is not yours to take."

Without expression Fukushima's dark eyes summed up the speaker, and puzzlement clouded their color as he looked. Rarely does one meet a man whose origin and race are not apparent even upon close scrutiny and yet here was one whom he could not classify even when he called upon his finely honed ninja skills.

The man who had addressed him was dressed in a black cloak, a black slouch hat and he had a blood red scarf covering his face, except for his eyes. Eyes that penetrated, eyes that had the power, he felt, to "cloud men's minds". Fukushima finished his analysis and the frustration must have pleased the man for he let loose a small, eerie, taunting laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"Not many people are familiar with the Japanese drink you have requested." The stranger turned and met the passively hostile stare of the ninja without embarrassment and without showing any emotion at all.

Fukushima was amazed. This man knew of umeshu, a liqueur made with plums. It was a favorite drink that had been consumed over 1,000 years in Japan and was made by soaking unripe ume plums in shochu. Prepared in its strength, (alcohol content of about 35 and laced with pure sugar), one could get drunk fairly quickly since it was absorbed directly into the bloodstream.

The man placed a fifty dollar bill on the bar and shook the full green bottle of umeshu in front of him tentatively. It evoked a slight gurgle as the cork was popped indicating a truly great brew. He reached for Fukushima's glass and poured. Under the ninja's jealous dark gaze he measured out one finger of the dark liqueur. It was not very much, but it would do for a start.

He regarded his portion of the drink disconsolately, then gave a nod of thanks.

"So you know I am broke! At these prices, Hench-san has made quite a killing."

The man nodded and now turned to the bartender who placed a soft drink in front of him and picked up the fifty.

"Change, Sir." The cute, teal eyed, female, bartender asked, and the stranger shook his head making her smile. It was almost like he was ignoring the young ninja, but not quite and while this action perturbed Fukushima to no end, he was still grateful for the drink.

Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, a beautifully sculpted woman in a red trench coat, with matching fedora, scarf and high-heeled shoes approached. Her long auburn hair gracefully flowed to the small of her back as she sat by the stranger's right side. Fukushima noticed that the fedora left the woman's face in shadow, covering her eyes and that she also seemed to have a flair for elegance, as the jewelry she was wearing above her wrists accentuated her black gloves. 'Those kinds of baubles', he thought, 'are only found in the finest establishments which I have robbed in the past.'

Turning to the woman, the man in black asked, "Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?"

The woman simply replied, "I'll be there in their hearts, around every corner, in every empty room, as inevitable as their guilty conscience."

"Where on earth are you now?" A small taunting, but beguiling, laugh escaped his lips punctuating his sentence.

"Here with you." And a feint smile was seen on her ruby red lips.

Fukushima couldn't made heads or tails out of their conversation so he finished his drink and flashed a glance of cherubic innocence along the bar counter as he eyed the remaining liquid in the green bottle.

"Name your price." His face, took on the appearance of holy innocence, peering at the stranger, his wise black wizen gaze meeting the foreigner's cold-steel look questioningly.

The man lifted an arched eyebrow.

"How about it?" he suggested delicately. "Hench owes me a favor, and probably you too, at least a drink anyhow. I finished honing my katana blade to razor sharpness this morning and am ready for anything. I think we could easily take over the whole bar area and get away with it."

The man adjusted his cloak and Fukushima glimpsed what looked like twin silver, holstered, .45 automatics. Somehow he felt the man grin beneath his scarf as he shook his head.

"Two many remaining customers. And you ought to know better than to start anything here. It isn't healthy."

Fukushima shrugged resigned shoulders and pointed to the bottle. "Now what?" he demanded.

"The rest of the bottle is yours for a story," the man told him.

"What kind of story?"

"Ah, let's say one about…," the hesitation felt like an eternity and the ninja braced himself not knowing what to expect.

"…Yono, the Destroyer."

-- xx --

Fukushima went pale for a moment and sighed. He twirled his glass wistfully and studied the bottle on the bar and then looked at the man in black and the woman in red, his eyes scrutinizing their appearance. The way he looked at them gave him the appearance of a choir boy that could be found in any cathedral, but too dark a knowledge soon emanated from his eyes eliminating any continuation of the illusion. His throat felt dry and his thirst was getting the better of him.

He turned his attention to the room and the few remaining villains. Those left in attendance were an assortment of motley or high society people and his weary eyes scrutinized them. Some he knew, some he didn't. He concentrated and listened to a few of them muttering some blasphemous gutturals about Kim Possible and her sidekick. Others were caught up in themselves bragging about their recent criminal exploits. Still others shot out snide, derogatory remarks about Stoppable and how he vanquished the Lorwardian's with his mad monkey powers.

'Yes, her sidekick, Ron Stoppable. The boy who defeated me and took away my honor.' The thought was repugnant, like putrid warm water and he wanted to spew it out of his mouth, but thoughts of vengeance would have to wait for another day. For now he needed to concentrate on the task and object at hand. His dark eyes returned to the bar and the green bottle. He hadn't seen or felt anyone from the Yamanouchi School so he decided he could get away with the story he would tell.

"Alright, but this tale needs more than an audience of two."

The man in black nodded, handing him the bottle and pointed him to the center stage of the nearby lounge.

Picking up the karaoke mike, Fukushima called to a few nearby villains to come and listen to what he was about to say. The pitch of his voice was almost hesitant, kind of melancholy, and yet sweet to be heard, but as he spoke more, enthusiasm began to drown out any doubtfulness in his voice, and a tinge of fanaticism crept in. He took a swig of the bottle for courage, cleared his throat and began…

"Sit, my fellow friends in crime and I shall tell you a tale of the late 17th Century. A story lost in time until recently. It is a legend that has been reborn and proof of it lies in Monkey Fist's cold stone body before you."

Not wanting to miss getting a mock in, Shego shouted out, "A little bedtime tale to keep little princesses and buffoons in bed at night."

"Or perhaps some fertilizer to spread around," added Drakken. And laughter poured from the audience.

"You mistake, green one and my blue passionate flowery poesy," and the audience chuckled as Dr. D's pedals drooped to match his embarrassment.

A few others in the audience now began scoffing at him until the man in black motioned for them to be quiet and listen as the gleam of twin silver, holstered, .45's appeared beneath his cloak.

"Yono," Fukushima said hesitantly and then took another drink from his bottle. He seemed to stager for a moment, and then he continued.

"Let's see. Where was I? Oh, yes…

"Yono of course means 'great ability' and as a malevolent mystic monkey schooled in Tai Shing Pek Kwar, he has plenty. Do not scoff for once his mark is set upon you, you are assured to find your destiny along his dark path. But to follow his path you must be willing. He takes on your strengths, skills and knowledge, adding to his own which make him a most formidable foe. Doing your bidding is his pleasure as long as it conforms to his wishes for vengeance upon that which he most hates...Yamanouchi and all within that hallowed school's walls.

When asked, Yono will dispatch your foes by turning them into solid stone, but only until you are defeated and then they are released. Monkey Fist found this to be true and is now locked in cold silent stone. Ever consumed by his very thoughts for the ultimate monkey power that drove him. When the Yono is summoned again, the cycle will begin anew and Monkey Fist will be released…more or less…so to speak."

Fukushima's voice trailed off as he saw a tear fall down DNAmy's cheek.

"So how did Yono the Destroyer come to be?" asked the woman in red bringing the ninja back into focus.

"It is said," he continued speaking into the mike, "that there were gods who were old when this world was a lush green planet untouched by the hand of man, and a verdant, bright yellow moon circled high above with steaming seas. Nearby Venus, molten hot, swung round a younger sun glowing brightly in the night's sky. They walked this world from the time of its creation unknown to most of mankind but guiding them towards their destiny.

The original gods were the beginning of all other gods that mankind has known. All modern gods are echoes of them, in a world that has forgotten their very names. But a few remember them as their names are carved upon the fortress walls of Yamanouchi.

Tulku they called one, and Sakura was the second. You will have never heard of them…they disappeared long before the hot seas of all civilizations had cooled and formed. No man knows how they vanished, or why, and no trace of them is left anywhere in the universe you know.

But there was a Third that came after them. A mighty one who ruled a small part of this planet; so mighty that even today, unthinkably long afterward, his name has not died from the lips of man. It has become a byword now - his name, that once no living creature dared utter! I have heard some of you call upon him not ten minutes past…Akuma or as you foreigners call him, 'Aku!"

Fukushima's voice sank to a quiver as he spoke the hackneyed name. Taking another small drink from the bottle in one hand, he then again spoke into the mike held with the other.

"Yes, I know. Akuma, today, means unmentionable rites to an ancient god of utter darkness. Akuma has sunk so low that His very name denotes nothingness. But in other days – ah, in other days!

Akuma has not always been a blur of dark worshipped with obscenity. In other days this planet teamed with life forms that knew what things the darkness hid, nor dared pronounce the name you laugh at, lest unwittingly they stumble upon that secret twist of its infection which opens the door upon the dark that is Akuma. Six individuals have been cursed and engulfed in the utter blackness of that god, and in that darkness have seen fearful things. I know of what I speak."

He paused for a moment, and his raw voice trailed off from the karaoke machine's speakers. He took another drink from the bottle and added in a lower tone of voice "such fearful things that a man today might scream his throat horse and never speak again above a whisper…"

The audience's eyes flickered, entranced by his words, and the remaining villains not already assembled, gathered together to hear the rest of the tale.

"So you see the old gods did not utterly disappear. They can never vanish completely as we know death; they came from too far Beyond to know either life or death as we do. They came from so very far, that to touch us at all, they had to take a visible form among the inhabitants of this world – to incarnate themselves in a form through which, as through a door, they might reach out and touch all creatures. The form they chose does not matter now – I do not know it. It was either a material or spiritual thing.

There was only one little problem that kept Akuma from completely dominating this world…the Five Ninja Masters of the Yamanuchi School. They were the masters of all that was good, noble and true for even though they were ninja, they embraced the code of the samurai and their monkey and other kung fu skills cut deep into the evil that marched throughout the land. The most powerful among the five was small in size and yet the most skilled in Tai Shing Pek Kwar. He, as the chosen Sensei of the Five, led them like no other. He was always first in battle and the last to finish.

As with all wars, time took its toll and one day the five were routed. Yamanuchi was left in ruins and so the five, with their students, dispersed themselves to the regions round about Akuma's growing empire. However; before they left, their spies had discovered a way to defeat the god, but to do so was beyond their abilities to perform such a feat.

They needed someone, skilled in the obtaining of archeological artifacts and avoiding the pitfalls that went with such; someone whose spirit aura would not give them away in Akuma's stone temple, someone with physically honed skills of strength, skill, and heart. And so they searched and on one dark and stormy night, after weeks of failure, they were rewarded by finding whom they sought sitting at a barely lit table in the back of the inn."

Fukushima paused once more. He looked out into the crowd that was now gathered round listening to his tale and took another drink from the half empty bottle in his hand to help with his dry throat. The old familiar feeling of the umeshu working on him was gathering strength and it felt great as it started washing over him like a cool summer's wave upon the soft, warm sand.

As his ninja skills started to dull, he saw the man dressed in black and the woman dressed in red now moving off to one side of the lounge, and noticed something he hadn't before as both became covered in shadow. For some mysterious reason his eyes locked on the man's scarf and what he thought was a "Blood Red" color, for almost an instant, seemed to be an almost identical match for the woman's coat.

Shaking his head, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to shake off the sight.

"The true story of Yono starts in that inn, when they asked…."

-- xx --

"May we join you? We couldn't help overhearing that you are open for business."

Without expression Anna brushed her auburn hair out of her emerald eyes and summed up the five. A puzzling thought crossed her mind, as she looked at them. Despite their clothing and the appearance of being beggars, they were far from it. Four of their builds indicated men of refinement, well skilled in the martial arts, but the fifth, who addressed her, she could not classify. Under the deep brown color of the man's skin something was being hidden, something concealed by his leathery exterior. His dark eyes could belong to any one of hundred's of people she had met and his demeanor effectively disguised his origin. Little and unobtrusive, he could pass for a native in any of the regions she had recently traveled.

Anna's impassive face did not change as she looked, but after long moments of scrutiny she said, "Pull up a few chairs, gentlemen," and then bit off the words as if she had said too much.

The brevity must have pleased the little man, for he smiled as they all complied. Meeting Anna's gaze with his bright eyes, he assuredly was summing her up too. Anna folded her arms on the table and leaned forward. The little man's husky voice began without preamble, "We can offer you employment…if you are not afraid. It's dangerous work but the pay is good enough to make up for it – if you are not afraid."

"What is it?" the adventurous young woman asked with peaked curiosity.

The little man hitched his chair closer and sent a glance round the room from under his lower lids. He scanned the face of Anna half doubtfully.

"We need you to acquire four jade monkey statues from Akuma's Temple."

"Akuma, the new Overlord that is taking over the land?"

"Yes."

Anna sat back for a moment. This was not going to be easy. She'd heard stories about this Overlord. Some said he was a God, others just a power hungry person feed by a lust for world domination. Her stomach growled and she remembered she hadn't eaten in the last two days. Money for her was nonexistent right now.

"Well, if you'll buy me a meal and meet my terms I'll take the job. I'd as soon be scared to death taking something from Akuma as die from hunger now."

"All we want are the four jade statues."

"What do you want with them?"

The now black but bright eyes stared suspiciously across the table into Anna's calm gaze.

"What business is it of yours?"

"I'm risking my neck for them, aren't I?"

Again the bright, small eyes bore into the young woman's. His husky voice fell lower, to the very echo of a whisper, and he said secretly.

"I'll tell you then. After all, why not?" You don't know how to use them. They are of no value to anyone but us. Listen; when the four statues are brought together and properly aligned they give the person in their crossed beams mystical monkey powers. Of course one must know how to do that. With that power, the five of us can beat Akuma and send his evil from the land."

"A noble cause, Mr., what did you say your name was?

"I didn't."

"Tell me your name, purchase the meal now, give me a small advance and pay my weight in gold and expenses after the task is complete and we have a deal."

"When can you start?"

Anna grinned, "Name and a meal first, then I'm available, anytime, anywhere."

"Yono. My name is Yono."

-- xx –

A few days later, Anna finished getting ready. Picking up the old book, she now starred out her room's window. Payment for the book was just doing a simple favor and since that price was reasonable it was now hers. She had just finished reading the last six pages of the old arcane tome on spells and legends. Why she had been reading it for the last week didn't make any sense but the old book seller said she could learn much from it. It had opened up new ideas and enlarged her mind and as she looked into the night's sky she saw endless words.

-- xx --

Fukushima paused in telling the story.

"Worlds. I meant worlds," Fukushima corrected himself and took another swig of umeshu. He again seemed to lose himself as he returned to the tale…

-- xx --

The sky was clear and she could see the stars and a huge crescent moon, with clouds rushing past it so that, for one crazy moment, it looked like the clouds were standing sill and the moon was tumbling off through the sky.

There was a feeling she first got when she had walked across Japan when she'd go into the mountains and look up into the night's sky. Perhaps it was an optical illusion, but…the SKY seemed so much bigger there than in other places and she felt so tiny, like a speck of dust, or a dream.

Then the clouds gathered. Maybe it was her imagination, but they took on the form of a man. He was walking across the sky slowly, his face almost hidden in the shadows of his hood and carrying a book chained to his wrist. Anna didn't know how long it took him to walk across the sky and then suddenly the man stopped and opened the book in front of her eyes.

As she read it, it told her how Akuma been incarnated into a material form and came through a door which reached humanity. It had to be done that way or he could not be in the present world and yet have a way back to his own. Anna realized that if it really was a door, then it had to open both ways and she needed to go through it. She also knew, if she dared, that Akuma could perhaps shut that door forever leaving her on the other side.

-- xx –

Fukushima looked out over the assembled and let the umeshu give him an odd smile. Then he added a comment to his story.

"For someone to do it today it would probably be like walking straight through a gateway into hell. But then, today, a long time has pasted and the gods have drawn away from this world into other worlds. The living terror that was Akuma is only an echo in a forgetful world. The spirit of the gods is gone… but not wholly. But I digress."

Fukushima took another long draw from the bottle and started to waiver. The intoxicating drink was beginning to have its desired effect on him. He then said, "Now, where was I…?"

-- xx --

"The question was, 'Where was the door?' Anna had already figured it out as her geological and explorer skills were brought to bear on the problem and two days later she stood at the cave's entrance on the backside of Akuma's temple.

By the back pass, on the left side was the mouth of a cave hidden by the massive properties of the temple itself. As she peered in, the jagged floor seemed to come to life and looked as if it had never known the tread of feet. A powdered snow of sorts lay undisturbed in deep crannies within, and daylight did not penetrate very far into the forbidding dark beyond.

Anna took a deep breath and plunged into the blackness and the cold. It was like leaving everything alive for some frost limbo that had never known life and the cold cut through her like a sharp knife. As she lit a nearby torch, it luminated a scene of utter desolation, more dead than death, for it seemed never to have known life.

For some time, she stumbled through the cold dark with only the light of her torch lighting the path directly in front of her. Rough walls and ragged ceiling and teeth of broken stone projecting from the floor slashed at her boots. There was no sound, nothing but the dark and the frost and the silence. As she traveled further, the darkness folded around her completely like the folds of a cloak.

Anna held her torch about a foot in front of her eyes hoping the burning light would lighten the way but she could not even detect its outline in that all consuming darkness. For what seemed an eternity the dead blackness held her like solid unyielding stone.

For some strange reason she now knew what to vaguely expect, but when it came, the shock of it took her breath away. There was no sound, but quite suddenly around a bend of the cavern came an image of utter whiteness, seen fragmentarily through a screen of the rock-toothed stalagmites and stalactites, then coming into full view against the dark background. Anna thought she had never seen whiteness before until her eyes beheld the door as it moved.

It was whiter than anything living or dead and it sickened her, somehow, and her flesh crept along her spine. Like a cut-out crystal figure, it glowed, no blazed, against the flat black. The dark did not affect it, no shadows lay upon its surface, in two arbitrary dimensions only, blind white superimposed upon blind dark, and it seemed to float towards her. There were simply no words to describe it.

Her skin crawled with unreasoning terror, and the hair on the back of her neck prickled with the weird, impossible approach of the door. She kept her head enough to see that it was apparently solid, yet somehow milky translucent; that it had form and depth, though no shadows of that darkness lay upon. It was very close now and suddenly a nameless, blind force beat out from it and assailed her, a force that somehow seemed to be driving her into unnamable things – an urge to madness, beating at her brain with the reasonless buffetings of insanity, but a wilder, more incomprehensible insanity than the sane mind could understand.

Something frantic within her clamored for instant, head long flight but something insistent at the roots of her brain held her firm before the whiteness bearing down in its aura of madness – something that denied the peril that hinted at solution…

Scarcely realizing that she had moved, she took her torch and on sudden impulse thrust it into the advancing apparition. For the briefest of instants torch flames and apparition whiteness became one and then the whiteness vanished. Fighting the waves of madness that still pounded her brain, she realized painfully that it must be something beyond her reach and therefore…

She laughed unsteadily and simply walked through it.

As her mind cleared, there was an instant of blaze and blinding whiteness, a moment of turmoil while dizziness swirled around her and the floor rocked under her feet and a maelstrom of mad impulses battered through her brain; then everything was black again and she moved cautiously ahead through the dark.

After a while of stumbling progress, punctuated with falls, through the muffling darkness only dispelled by the remaining fire of her torch, she stopped to see what appeared to be a glow of cold grey light at the far end of the cave. It looked like a gleam of paradise after that journey through the heart of the dead black rock she had just come through.

She looked out upon the ruins of a city. The city where the Akuma once had dwelt. All that remained was ragged rock, great splintered teeth of stone upflung, the bare mountainside folded and tortured into wild shapes of desolation. Here and there, buried in the debris of ages, lay huge six-foot blocks of hewn stone, the only reminder that here had stood a city, once, very long ago.

After five minutes of searching Anna's emerald eyes finally located the outline of what might, millions of years ago, have been a street. It led strait away from the slope at the cave-mouth and the blocks of hewn stone, the crevices and folded ruins of past earthquakes choked it, but the course it once had run was not entirely obliterated even yet. Palaces and temples must have lined it once. There was no trace of them now save in the blocks of marble lying shattered among the broken stones.

Time had erased the city from the face of this place almost as completely as from the memories of any inhabitants. Yet the trace of this one street was all she needed to guide her.

The going was rough. Once down among the ruins it was difficult to keep track, and for almost an hour she clambered over broken rock and jagged spikes of stone, leaping crevices, skirting great mounds of ruin. She was scratched and breathless by the time she came to the first landmark she recognized…a black, leaning needle of stone, half buried in fragments of broken marble. Just beyond it lay two blocks of stone, one besides the other, perhaps the only two in the whole vast ruin besides the black stone needle that survived.

In the very center of the needle was a symbol that was cut deep and vehement and black against a small grey background. Anna, seeing it, caught her breath. She knew the sign of Akuma. Pressing it, the stone blocks parted revealing four distinct jade monkey statues of glowing light.

She shielded her eyes from the blinding torrent of radiance that now poured forth from them and was drawn to one in particular. For some reason it burned with a rich, golden blue light, somehow thick, yet clear at the same time, and her sight returned immediately. This was like no light she had ever seen before and she felt a sea of radiance almost overpower her.

As her eyes became accustomed to the sudden change from the murky grey darkness she gather all four statues up into one place and then pick on and lift up the brightly glowing one only to find it shimmering more intensely than even before.

Anna's intuition kicked into high gear and instinctively she knew what she needed to do.

This was power…power incarnate and no one should ever have that much power.

She knew she had to destroy them all. Break them into a million pieces and as she picked the glowing one up, its brilliance grew a hundred fold. It was strong and burned with a fierce, intense light flickering with nameless evanescent colors – its power growing into a flame of pure blue light. For some reason she was compelled to set it down.

And as the minutes passed the flame grew a thousand fold stronger and she felt herself paralyzed. Reflections of the jade monkeys now began to dance eerily on the rubble of the city, sending long wavers downward until the ground was carpeted with streams of blue flame. An odor of unnamable familiarity very faintly spread upon the air and white smoke rose…the smoke of a dying race.

It went to her head dizzily, and the reflections wavered and ran together until she seemed to be suspended in time and space while all about her pictures of flames went writhing through the murkiness of the luminated area. Pictures of blue flame…nebulous, with unreal pictures of the city's inhabitants waving across the landscape, flashing by uncertainly overhead, running under her feet, circling her round about in reeling patterns, as if reflections made eons ago here were waking to life at the jade monkey's magic touch.

With the smoke eddying dizzily in her nostrils she watched and all about her, overhead and underfoot, the strange wild images ran blurrily by and vanished. She thought she saw mighty landscapes ringed by mountains such as none would know…she thought she saw a whiter sun than has shone for eons, lighting a land where rivers thundered between green banks…thought she saw the moon parading across a purple night sky.

Cities reeled past her eyes in shapes stranger than any that she knew of. Peaks and spires and angled domes towered high and shining under the hot white sun…strange ships riding the airways…She now saw wars, with weapons that have no names, blasting the tall towers into ruins, wiping great smears of blood across the landscape – saw triumphant marches where humans paraded in a blaze of color through shining streets…strange people, half seen.

Nebulously, the history of a dead and forgotten world flared by her in the dark.

And then she saw the city's inhabitants bowing down before Akuma? No, it was someone else…not a god, but a man – a darkness that spread monstrously across the white-lit heavens and she saw the beginnings of a great monkey god…saw his throne room where the city's inhabitants lay face down in worshipping windrows about a great pedestal toward which, for the dazzle and the darkness of it, she could not turn her eyes.

Then without warning, in a mighty blast of violence, all the wild pictures in the flickering flame the light ran together and shivered before her dizzied eyes, and a great burst of blinding light leaped across the landscape until in one instant blaze the ensuing radiance stunned, blinded, and exploded in her very brain and empowered her with more knowledge than she ever desired.

-- xx –

She thought that she might have been blinded permanently by that radiance, and a part of her thought it might be worth it to have seen some of the wonders that the light had shown her, but her vision returned to her as she heard a voice from behind her.

"Thank you my dear woman for finding the way to enter here. I see you have recovered what I have been seeking since I became human."

Anna turned to face the speaker and with her new found knowledge spoke, "What a magnificent performance Akuma or should I say Yono. You have kept the four Yamanuchi Ninja Masters under mind control, assembled a remarkable monkey Ninja army, built a stone temple, and almost conquered the entire…"

"World. The word you are looking for is world."

Anna knew she needed to keep him talking for as long as possible so that she could find a way to escape or perhaps even abandon her new found adversary here and so she spoke two simple words, "Do tell."

"I see no reason not to tell as your life will be forfeit shortly. You see many ages ago there dwelt here the original Akuma for who the city was named. In the city lived a wizard of mighty power, but not mighty enough to fulfill all his ambitions though many thought he was a god. So by his arts he created the four jade monkeys of mystical monkey power and created a living stone monkey he called up out of the fires of this world's core to embrace that limitless power.

I am he, whom you know as Yono, and I struck a bargain. By that bargain I was to give him limitless mystical monkey power, people his lands with slaves, turn his enemies to stone, furnish women to tend to his needs and serve him all the days of his life, and in return at his passing, he would follow my path willingly and all that he now had would be mine including human life.

However, I soon discovered after his passing that I no longer possessed the mystical monkey power being human, and that he had hid the jade monkeys so I could not drink of their power and as his enemies turned from stone to human form they thrust me from this land.

So I played two roles in your fair world. That of a would be conqueror and that of a noble defender so that by either path someone would lead me here to regain what I had once lost.

And that dear lady is precisely what you have done."

Yono gathered up the four jade statues and commanded Anna to come. She knew she was no match for a skilled master of Tai Shing Pek Kwar and followed, painfully alert, walking with lowered, brooding eyes, her mind and soul afar trying to think her way out of the sitch. His power was strong but it had not overpowered her. As long as she had her wits about her, she knew she could still figure a way out of this.

They had gone about a 100 yards when Yono began an incantation and soon a mighty stone temple appeared from under the earth vaulting up into the grey skies above. An entrance appeared opening up into a hallway widening to an arch, and abruptly, on the other side, one wall dropped away into infinity and they stood in a gallery with four distinct pillars. Phosphorescence had lighted their way since they had entered and it now gave way to the four brightly lit green statues which Yono placed one by one in a precise order, aligned them and stood in the center.

Around his neck he placed an amulet of what looked to be from a Monkey King and spoke an incantation. The four Jade Monkey's power was now fixated on him and the brilliance that emanated from the power striking him was blinding and struck into Anna's brain causing her to stumble forward and she fell to the ground.

It took her a few minutes to understand what was happening. At first she heard laughter, dark and foul and snatched breathing and all that burns down into the imagination in the night. It held her down hard and steady in a gripe. It felt like she was being strangled as the gripe held onto her tight. It was all darkness now, no air, no light, no breath, no sound. Like a grave within a grave. Fear burned down into her brain like a white hot blade laid across open eyes and then…

Yono's transformation was complete. He was now a true mystical monkey master once again.

It was difficult to keep her eyes shut and pretend to be barely conscious. She was aware of Yono moving closer to her, the scent of his sweat overlaying his monkey odor, and she forced herself not to tense. It seemed as if an eternity passed as he loomed over her, and it took what little will power she had left not to flinch back against the power she felt.

"It is a shame you probably don't understand what's going on," he whispered finally, his voice harsh, an insane and horrible parody of a mad monkey's whisper. He drew his fingers down her cheek and she wondered if she should vomit, just to make it unpleasant for him. "Soon you'll be mine, and when you're crawling on your belly, willing to do absolutely anything for me, you'll understand how much you belong to me."

She wished he would spare her the melodramatic dialog, finding it quite tedious and realized that her mind was doing its best to distance itself from what was happening. It was a combination of her innate scientific detachment and the survival experiences she had gone through which kept her alive.

Anna had learned through her adventures that there was always a chance of falling into an enemy's hand, of being at the mercy of someone who would utilize any means to discover information ... or simply because it was an unfortunate aspect of their culture. Exploring and adventure for her held many forms of danger, and this was far from the first time that she had found herself in a situation of being in the hands of someone who wanted to do her harm in a most unpleasant way.

But it was never easy to accept, and the desire to fight back was strong within her. She had to remind herself to wait for the proper moment. Her life depended on it. She did notice that Yono was not attempting to harm her physically, yet, but what he was promising to do to her once he had her in his possession, his detailed account of all the horrible and varied techniques for creating the most amount of pain, was enough to make her stomach turn. That he was obviously becoming stimulated by his ranting of power only heightened her revulsion.

He really had developed into a sick little monkey, she decided. Something dark inside him that ate away more and more of his soul until there was nothing left? Had he always been the sort of person whose personality tended to that sort of thing? Certainly, he had been an exceptionally self-centered individual from what she had seen. A person whose view of the world was shaded primarily in how things affected _him_ versus anyone else, able to twist things around so that he was always the victim of bad luck or timing, rather than as a result of his own actions. Was this merely an extension of a personality flaw, with his failure to get what he wanted, or the end of an ever increasing spiral down into darkness? Or was it his own path of evil, willingly followed?

A cold trickle of sweat ran down her spine, and her body felt like jelly. It was taking all her willpower to maintain a play-dead posture, to look as if she wasn't a threat.

Yono's eyes glittered as he levitated her up and pushed her against the wall, a smile playing over his lips. "So," he murmured, the bulk of his body now pressing against hers, his fingers tracing the soft underside of her chin. "You will be mine."

Despite the terror sending icy tendrils through her stomach, Anna opened her eyes and smiled dryly. "If you're going to kill me, Yono," she said, with a casualness she was far from feeling, "just do it. Don't bore me to death with your endless dialogue."

He drove a fist into her stomach, a short punch that drove the air from her lungs, and for an instant, blackness edged her vision. She slumped against the wall, aware of a new commotion going on around her, and understood that the four Yamanouchi Ninja Masters were now on the scene. 'Must have followed Yono after breaking his mind control,' she thought to herself. The Four as one had lunged at Yono, bringing him down with a series of flying kicks that connected with his entire monkey body over and over and over again until wheezing, Yono finally got to his feet, an ugly, angry expression emblazoned on his face.

It was difficult for Anna to keep track of what was going on but she saw Yono unleash his full power against the Four. He was faster than them and soon they found themselves on the defensive from a series of blows that struck their stomachs, chests and heads. They tried to futilely intercept most of the blows with their forearms but to no avail. His stiff, forceful punches drove the air out of their lungs and forced them to retreat.

All four were brought up short by the nearby wall, running into it with an impact that made them grunt. Desperately, they tried to establish offensive positions as they struck out at Yono again, but it was like jamming their fingers into stone, and they were slammed by blow after blow that jolted them to their bone marrow. Shaking their heads to clear their vision of blood streaming from facial cuts they felt the first tendrils of uncertainty feather through them. It was reality that they were outmatched physically, and they found it impossible to stop him. This malevolent mystic monkey, this Destroyer, wasn't allowing them a second to recover, not granting them an instant to focus their concentration on anything, but defending themselves.

He continued knocking aside their feeble attempts at striking back, and now with rage in his eyes, a glowing beam shot out and one by one he turned them to stone. Soon only he and Anna remained.

Yono's anger was now a blood lust and he picked her up and wrapped her up in a grip that lifted her from the floor, his tail tightening around her neck and an unseen power squeezing her chest. She was unable to breathe, and for a disbelieving moment, she actually felt the bone of her ribs creak and begin to compress, squeezing her internal organs. A red shade began to cover her vision, edged with darkness as consciousness started to slip inexorably away.

Suddenly, there was a respite, a loosening of the monkey's grip, and Anna gained a brief second to regain her senses. Somehow she had managed to raise her hands and slam them brutally together on his ears, causing him to release her and throw her to the center of the floor where she gasped for breath and then found a surge of energy unknown to her, looking up she was caught in the beam of the four jade monkeys.

She felt wonderful as a blue power flowed into her and promptly she jumped on Yono pounding on his head and shoulders with her small fists, her face altered into a feral expression of hatred and determination never before seen. However, her attack, as sincere and furious as it was, was much like a tiny dog attacking an elephant, and Yono easily flipped her off, sending her skidding across the room. She landed short by crashing into a pile of rubble.

Yono's face was like stone, furious and frightened all at the same time, though perhaps only Anna could detect a trace of fear edging from his stormy black eyes.

"Your solution isn't good enough," he said flatly as his eyes started to glow. "Now you shall become as the Four."

Anna looked…looked for anything that would help and then she found it…a small polished brass plate about twelve inches round sticking out nearby. It just might provide the only advantage she would have.

Yono was now power incarnate and had more ability than ever before. He was indeed holding the upper hand. All Anna had was a new found power, her wits and a determination that she would not be defeated, not this time nor by this monkey.

Looking into the maddened pits of his eyes, the obsidian windows to Yono's soul that held nothing but darkness, Anna knew that she had nothing to beat him outright...nothing but one final move of complete desperation. She rolled and grabbed the plate and as Yono released his power at her, she reflected it back at him.

He was caught off guard by the move, unable to alter the direction where the beam was heading and took the full brunt of the blast. Anna felt his shock all the way to her bone marrow as he began to turn to stone, his mouth opening in a shock of horror and dismay. For a timeless moment, they stared into each other's eyes, both astonished. Then Yono gasped as the process was complete and instantly the Four Ninja were returned to normal.

The eldest of the Four addressed her.

"So your mystical monkey power is as strong as Yono's was."

"I'm still alive, if that's what you mean."

"There's not another in this world who could do what you have done. You are, indeed, the one who makes things possible. From henceforth, you and your heirs shall be the guardian's of the mystical monkey power. We four shall place these four jade monkeys in separate temples scattered throughout the world so that their power can never be misused again."

"I'd appreciate that very much, please and thank you. Now how about all of us taking our leave of this place. I have a feeling that this temple isn't going to stay around very long since the source of its power is now gone."

"Agreed."

-- xx --

"So now you all know the story of Yono the Destroyer and I have finished my tale."

His task complete, Fukushima finished off his bottle of umeshu and, with a smile on his face, quietly passed out onto the floor beneath him.

There was a hushed silence, followed by laughter, as the young ninja slept drunk as a skunk, oblivious to all around him.

"Talk about ze fabricated gas," chuckled Dementor.

"Aye, laddie buck! That's the biggest crock and bull story I've ever heard," replied Killigan.

"I call bull buttons too," said Drakken.

Suddenly, as if transported there by some magic, from a time long ago, or by some technology from some future time, the Man in Black and the Woman in Red appeared in the middle of the lounge.

Jones heard Mandy, his beloved Lithuanian wolfhound, growl and turned to Shego, "I believe it's time to make our departure…now!"

"Why?" Shego looked completely perplexed.

"Never argue with the instincts of a refined lady," and he, Mandy and Shego made a hasty beeline strategic retreat from the lounge.

The man in black now slowly moved to stand in front of the gathered villains, the woman in red following his every step. Once there, they both turned to the remaining laughing audience and then the man in black let loose with his own dark laugh that froze everyone to their seats. "Oh, do not doubt Fukushima's words. They were all true."

"What makes you an authority on the subject, Stranger?" asked a perturbed Dr. Drakken.

"_**Because Anna Stopabilski was an ancestor of mine,"**_ replied the Man in Black with a hint of pride in his voice.

The room became so quiet that one could have heard a pin drop and the man in black and the woman in red shimmered with a blinding intensity. Their holographic disguises now vanished and were replaced with a glowing blue aura around a blonde hair young man and a battle suited young woman ready to spring into action. Both were set to seriously kick some villain booty.

"**Ron Stoppable and Kim Possible! Get them!**" shouted everyone, but before they could move a muscle the entire outer wall of the first three stories of the hotel's convention center crumpled to the ground like broken tinker toys and a voice demanded….

"_**Give back what you have taken! Return what you have stolen!"**_

As the dust quickly settled a malevolent mystical monkey was seen floating in the air above the group.

"**OOPS**," shouted Ron! "I guess I should have told everyone that Yono was looking for Monkey Fist and I sort of called him, ah…telepathically."

When Jack Hench heard all the commotion and noise coming from below in the lounge area, he quickly looked out the glass and found himself unable to see what was happening below from all the dust clouding his view. A feeling of doom came over him as he turned and ran for the stairs that would take him directly to the lounge and what he saw there shocked and stupefied him beyond belief.

Kim slyly grinned at Jack as his mouth seemed to hit the floor. His three glorious days of profits had just vanished in a flash with a crash.

"By the way Jack, Ron and I still frown on your Villain's Conventions."

"You could have simply told me, Ms. Possible," he smugly remarked not letting on how bad he really felt.

Ron smiled at Kim and then they both turned to face Jack.

"This was our way of telling you," they said at the same time making a new voice that some part of Jack thought…felt so right. It was a part of them that he knew he could never, ever beat except…maybe, just maybe.

"Jinx," he spoke very calmly. "You both owe me a soda."

Jack watched the two look at each other and grin, then saw Ron reaching to his pants pocket and pull out a piece of paper. As they ran by him, Ron handed him the paper.

Looking down at it, Jack Hench, president-founder of HenchCo, couldn't help himself as he read it and started to laugh uncontrollably…

_This coupon is good at any participating Bueno Nacho and entitles the holder to one free large soda._

-- xx –

Kim Possible Characters © the Walt Disney Company, USA

-- xx --

All right folks, this is it for real. Vote for your favourite chapter over at my forum. The poll will be up now so you can take your pick from these 9 chapters. Then, on Friday next week, the winner will be announced in a final chapter to this story. So place your votes now!


	11. Conclusion

**The Villain's Convention – The Conclusion**

Jack Hench wandered around the ruins of the convention center, staggered by the amount of the damage. He was just thankful that he was insured and not liable. It was the only thing that was working in his favour right now.

He walked past the remains of Phil Phobos' Photonic Phasers, his destroyed inventory mixed in with Sam's Discount Deathrays. The was nothing left of either business' stock. To his right was the smoldering remains of Crazy Lee's display tank. It had taken an early hit and little remained of it beyond scrap metal.

He walked past many more displays on his way to the presentation stage. Everyone had cleared out except for his own staff, who were picking through the rubble, trying to salvage what they could. It didn't hurt to see if he could maybe find something that could boost his own bottom line amongst the remains left by their owners. Maybe even something that could make this convention worthwhile again.

When he finally got back to the stage, there was little that was recognizable. Shattered wood lay strewn about. The curtains that had hung in the background still smoked. And his prize, awarded to the winner of the contest, lay in ruins, his advanced bio-generator totaled completely. It would take a month to build anouther one, at considerable expense.

But one thing remained intact, something that shocked and surprised him. The ballot box, where the villains had placed their votes for best story, remained where it had been located when the contest had started. Despite all the chaos, it survived.

Acting on a whim, Jack Hench popped the top off the ballot box. It didn't matter right now, but it was something to do, and his curiosity was getting the better of him. Plus, he knew the villains in attendance would demand an answer sooner or later. He'd just have to toss them some other piece of tech to keep the winner happy.

But Jack Hench's mood soon soured as he began counting the ballots. "This... this isn't possible." Tossing them onto a flat piece of rubble, he counted them again, still unable to believe it.

"The winner is... **Yono the Destroyer**?"

Jack shook his head, trying to figure out how it had happened. All his guests were running for their lives when the tale of Yono was concluded. None of them should have had time to vote, put their ballot in the box, and then continue running for their lives. Yet somehow, the Yono had managed to win as a write-in ballot.

Jack Hench sat down hard on the rubble, wondering what he could do. He couldn't give the award to the individual that had ruined his convention. It would set a bad precedent. Every villain would start trashing his shows if they thought that was the way to win and get attention. With a final sigh, Hench rose to his feet. "I'll just have to tell them Senor Senior Senior won. At least that man knows how to deal properly for all his villain merchandise." And with that, Jack Hench rose to his feet and headed out, hoping to put this whole weekend out of his mind as quickly as possible.

--

Author's Notes – **Congratulations to our winner JAKT, writer of the Yono the Destroyer chapter of this story.** It is by far well-deserved, and fit this story so well. I'd like to thank all the other participants for their contributions, and all the readers who took the time to read, review, and vote, and hope you'll join us for the next Zaratan contest slated to start in just a few minutes called... Cheerleader Tales. You don't want to miss it!


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